Blödh abr du Shur'tugalar
by Aodh Stormeyes
Summary: Full Summary inside. 500 years after Inheritance. A new enemy has risen and they seek for a way to bring down their biggest threat, the Dragon Riders, through a boy named Eric, who isn't quite what he seems. Rating downgraded to T unless something changes
1. Author's Note and Full Summary

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I'm trying my hand at writing once more. And I'm trying my hand at writing fanfiction yet again as well. Yes, those are two separate thoughts. I write a lot of original stuff after I got my start writing fanfiction. I guess the first thing I should say is that I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle_ or any other literary works.

Also you'll notice that some words of the Ancient Language I'll use are not actually official. As Paolini has admitted that he used a mixture of Old Norse and Celtic words (along with some that he probably just invented), I've decided to employ a combination of online dictionaries and translators along with my own imagination to add words when I can't find one that suits my purpose. Eric's sword is a shortened form of two words that I selected to mean "Avenger of the Dead".

So below is the summary I promised. Hope it strikes your interest. Currently, I only have the Prologue finished. I'll be working on Chapter 1, but any constructive criticism or praise is welcome. I could use either/or after my long break from writing due to the bane called "Writer's Block".

Oh and I hope I can actually see this one through til the end.

**Summary**: Five hundred years after the rebirth of the Dragon Riders, Eric is a boy living in Tierm. He is two years after his coming of age and has been secretly courting Sara. On the day he promises to see her father seeking Sara's hand in marriage, Eric is kidnapped by a group of soldiers. Brought before a shade, Eric is told that he is more important than he ever realized and is then shown something that destroys his life as he had planned it: a green dragon egg.

Why is Eric so important? How is his becoming a Dragon Rider any more eventful than that of any other? And how is it that every major faction seems to know him?


	2. Prologue: A Past to Forget

**A/N: **I do not own the _Inheritance __Cycle_ or any other literary works. Reviews are also quite welcome.

**Prologue: ****A Past to Forget**

He stared down the magician coldly. They had finally caught up with him. It wasn't enough that the enemy had torn him away from his family, but they insisted on continuing their attacks. All of his rage, pain, fear, and frustration lashed out at the man who stood before him. The magician's mental defenses shattered beneath the onslaught and the man stiffened involuntarily as his mind was crushed.

"Deyja." Due to their mental link, both men spoke simultaneously, though only one actually said the word. He delved into his magic and released the spell. The magician gasped for breath and clutched at his heart as his life suddenly left him, his soul ripped from his body. He hated to use that spell, but he didn't have time to play games with the other magic user. For someone who was mostly human, he still had much of the power that came from his elven and Dragon Rider heritage. And with that came the training he had been given and the knowledge he'd been allowed.

But killing someone with that spell still tore him to shreds inside every time.

_No,_ he thought with a violent shake of his head. _Now is not the time to be thinking such thoughts. I must escape or they will never be safe. Think, how can I hide?_ The beginnings of many plans and possibilities started forming and piece by piece fell into place like a puzzle. _What age? Sixteen is too old, I would never be able to fully escape if people thought otherwise. For this to succeed I need to forget everything._

Looking down at his sword, he sighed. _ I may come to regret this if the enemy ever discovers my ruse. But it needs be done. Just breathe. You know how to phrase the spell. Just think of a place you'll be safe in and begin with this scheme._

Looking into the deep green of the emerald embedded in the sword's pommel, he poured every last ounce of energy into it that he could without killing himself. He would be safe for the night. In the morning, he would have the strength to relocate and then repeat the process of storing as much energy as he safely could. It was dangerous, but his sword would always be in his reach and, with it, the energy to defend himself.

Through sheer force of will, he pulled himself into his bed where his sleep had been interrupted by the magician that now lay dead on the floor and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p>He awoke in the small cellar of the inn that he'd stolen refuge in. Looking at the emerald once more, he poured the meager amount of energy into it that he could spare and was surprised to find that after storing only half of what he normally did he was met with a wall. With a sigh of relief, he knew that the first step was done. It had taken many weeks of careful planning and hiding, but he had finally completely fill the gem. Another day of rest with plenty of food and he would have enough energy to complete his goal.<p>

Glancing around, the absence of light in the cellar hardly affected him, thanks to his heritage. Weakly, he foraged through the many sacks, barrels, and crates until a fair pile of fruits, seeds, and vegetables lay in his lap.

He ate slowly, so as to maximize the amount of energy his body absorbed from the sustenance. Hunger continued to claw at him as he resisted the urge to eat as fast as he could. As he did so, he continued to focus on the specifics of his ultimate goal for escape. He knew that he should just go to the Riders for help, but he couldn't bear to look his grandparents from however many generations back in the eye and ask for assistance from an enemy whose goal was yet to be determined.

So instead, he strove to be unpredictable. He wanted to rely on his own strength and cunning. Sighing, he took a bite of an apple before a voice made him freeze.

"We know he is here, mortal," the voice said in a threatening tone, "you cannot hide him from us."

"I don't know who this Eric is," the frightened innkeeper responded. "And I've not seen a soul with a Rider's sword in years." Eric felt the probing presence of the shade's mind as it searched for him. He shielded himself.

"Skölir munr iet," Eric whispered. The spell worked and he breathed a sigh of relief as the shade's thoughts avoided his, deflected around Eric's mind without alerting the shade to his presence. The shade was underestimating him, otherwise the spell wouldn't have worked at all. He would have simply noticed the blank spot where his mind couldn't go.

"It seems you were telling the truth," the shade finally said. "In that case, I have no further need of you." The innkeeper gasped and there was the sound of a body hitting the floor. Eric's lips formed a thin line as he glared at his sword in an attempt to stay where he was. It was not worth dying over yet. If he died, everything he and the Riders had worked so hard to protect would be lost. That was the flaw of being so well known and yet not being a Dragon Rider: people were after him for the Rider's secrets.

_Gods take me though. That man died because of my existence. People will continue to die if I don't make them think I'm dead either._ Eric forced himself to breathe deeply to calm himself as he rethought his plan. He would need to hide his sword before going through with the rest and then accurately time a spell that would make them think him dead while he made his final escape to live out his life in peace.

Silently, Eric grabbed a ceramic bowl and filled it with water from a rain barrel that had been pulled inside for storage. He had little energy still, but it was more than enough to cast a scrying spell. He sighed as the water turned black and showed the interior of the office used by the leader of the Dragon Riders. His ancestor sat at the desk his brow furrowed in frustration.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin, grandfather," Eric greeted in the general elven fashion. The Rider looked up at the mirror that Eric knew to be showing his image in it and, after a moment, smiled solemnly.

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr," came the response. "How fare you?"

"Well enough to know that this shall be our last contact for some time." Eric glanced at his sword as he thought of his next words. "I am, and always have been, a weakness for the Shur'tugalar, grandfather. Even now the enemy desires me and has gone to great lengths to stop my return to Ynys Skulblaka. As far as I can see, there is but one option left to keep the Order safe. I plan to make it so that even if I am found, they will never find that knowledge which was never there."

Recognition sparked in the Rider's eyes as he caught Eric's meaning. "Be careful, Eric. Arya and I would hate to see something happen to you, especially after that incident with the rest of our fam-"

"I know. I've planned it out. Long before the time they realize I'm not dead, I will be well hidden. If they ever find me, I will be useless and there is a chance I'll be left to live in peace."

"Or you will be killed or still pressed into service, whatever that may entail. You know that you may never be the same person?" Eric nodded.

"I've come to terms with that possibility." The Rider sighed.

"How old will you be?"

"A newborn... barely weaned," Eric replied after a moment. "It'll make being taken in easier and will threw off suspicion for anybody looking for me, since others will have watched me grow up."

"What about your magic?"

"There's nothing I can do about it except hope I never discover it again. Else, it may renew interest."

"And Rekfeigr?" Eric looked down at the sword sadly.

"I'm sending it someplace else," he answered after a moment. "It's too dangerous for the blade to stay with me, but if the worst happens, I'm going to need it."

The Rider sighed. "I don't like it, but if you can't get to safety here, then I wish you the best of luck, Eric. Atra gülai un ilian tauthr ono, Eric-finiarel."

"Elrun ono, Eragon Shur'tugal. Eka weohnata néiat deyja." Exchanging farewells, Eric ended the scrying spell and considered the sheer amount of energy he'd need to accomplish the remainder of his plan. The best way to fake his death was by burning something and scattering the ashes so that no one would think to check the amount. At the same time, he'd have to change his appearance, revert his body back to that's of a newborn's, and transport himself and Rekfeigr to completely different places. Ynys Skulblaka was warded against such means of transportation, which meant that he would have to find some other safe place.

And Eric knew he'd have to think of the rest of the details quickly before his luck and energy ran out completely. He just considered himself lucky that it was only his elf-like energy and slight elven features that made him anything but human. His stamina was enormous, but his strength and speed were human within acceptable standards.

Finishing an apple, Eric drank the water in the bowl and stood. He'd think as he moved. It was dangerous to move, but staying any longer than he had was more so.

* * *

><p>Eric leaned against a nearby tree as his weakened legs threatened to collapse beneath him. Reaching out with his mind, Eric sipped from the energy of the surrounding plants and animals to stop his legs from shaking and to ensure he could continue just a little bit longer.<p>

An amused chuckle sounded behind him. Eric's breath caught, but he recovered and turned slowly towards the source. In front of him stood a man of above average height, with crimson hair, and maroon eyes. Every muscle in Eric's body tensed as he stared at the shade.

"You have given me and my allies much trouble, hybrid." The shade's voice caused an involuntary shudder in Eric. It held malice and power laced within its obvious amusement and confidence. "Come Eric Älfablödh," the shade gave a threatening smile, "or die."

Eric swallowed nervously. He was too weak to hope to fend off the shade and escape normally and he still hadn't thought of where he'd send Rekfeigr with his spell... and now that he thought of it, he really didn't have time to say the lengthy incantation required anyway.

Eric forced himself to smile as he pushed out every stray thought in his head. The only safe place he could think of that he could send his sword to was Eragon's half-brother, Murtagh. "I'll think on it," he said, diving into the flow of magic and losing it without a word. If anyone found out about this, Eric's remaining family would have his hide.

In the same instant that a pillar of blue flame surrounded him, Eric's body began shrinking, growing younger as the massive spell took place. Knowing he'd die otherwise, Eric had forced his mind to connected to the consciousnesses around him and draw from their energy to fuel the vast majority of the spell.

Just as the fire began to die, a shockwave exploded through the area, forcing the shade to brace himself as the flames roared greater still. "Waíse gangaí," The shade said with a wave of his hand. The flames vanished, dissipated into the energy they were composed of. Anger flashed in his eyes when there was no sign of Eric amid a large circle of death.

* * *

><p>"Neil, can't you move any faster? There aren't anymore inns between here and Tierm and we're close enough I don't wish to sleep outside tonight," the young man's wife urged. Neil sighed as he pulled harder on the reins of the horse he was leading.<p>

"Peace, Karina," Neil spoke softly, "We shall be there by nightfall and time to spare. Just trust me in this, my love." The woman nodded, but said nothing. The horse snorted in protest as Neil tugged once more. Blue light flashed off to their right and a slight breeze picked up. Neil shook his head.

Then the sound of the blast came.

Neil suddenly found himself struggling as the mare reared, screaming. The animal attempted to bolt, but Neil held on tight until Karina could assist him in calming the frightened beast. When they finally managed it, Neil looked towards where he'd seen the flash.

"What in the blazes was that?" He asked, exasperated at the sudden delay. Without thinking, he started walking towards the location. "Stay with Bella, I'll be right back," he told Karina as he strode away.

It didn't take him long to locate the source of the problem since the area had been basically flattened. In the center of the devastated circle was something Neil never expected to find: a sleeping infant. Looking around for any other sign of people, Neil's heart sank when he realized the only two humans nearby were himself and Karina. The child was lying naked on the ground, abandoned.

Unable to bring himself to leave the babe there, Neil knelt beside him and cradled the boy in his arms. As he stood, a line of letters carved into the ground caught his eye, spelling a name.

"Eric," Neil read aloud. Gazing down at the sleeping child, Neil couldn't help but think that that was likely the boy's own name, though he couldn't have guessed how it had appeared in the ground like that... unless the boy had been abandoned through magical means. That thought alone scared Neil, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the infant alone. Holding him close, Neil carried the boy back to where Karina and Bella were waiting.

Karina rushed forward as soon as she saw what Neil was holding. "Where did you find him?" Karina asked, though Neil knew his wife well enough to know that she had many other questions.

"Looks like he was abandoned through magic. He doesn't appear to have any other family. And I think his name's Eric." Karina stared at the child she was holding.

"Eric... it's a good name for him. Are you positive there was no one else around?" Neil nodded. Karina was silent for a moment. "Then perhaps the gods have answered our prayers for a child," she said finally. "Let's raise him as our own child." Once more Neil nodded, this time in agreement. They'd been trying for a child since their marriage seven years ago and Karina had miscarried every attempt at success, a fact that had despaired the young couple immensely.

With all the care they could manage, Neil grabbed a blanket from the cart Bella was pulling and held it out for Karina to wrap Eric in. The infant stirred slightly as they finished and, in reverent and thankful silence, the couple continued their journey to start a new life in Tierm.


	3. Chapter 1: Discovery

**A/N:** So I'm liking how many hits my first chapter has gotten since I uploaded it. For those who were wondering at my wording: no Eragon is not Eric's grandfather. There's a few more generations, but if your great-great-great-grandfather or someone were still alive, would you address them as such? Also, yes, before the end of the prologue, Eric was a formidable spell caster whose knowledge rivaled even the Riders. This would come from extensive training and many years and decades of study. Conclusion: Eric is older than he looks, but still could only see that his only choice lay in sacrificing all that knowledge.

… Oh and yes: I do realize how dangerous a spell of the magnitude which Eric managed can be, considering it's many little details and the sheer amount of energy required. You'll see the consequences of his actions soon enough in this chapter or the chapters to come. If

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle_ or any other literary works.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One – Discovery<strong>

Eric was careful as he shaved his remaining stubble off with the razor. Most men seemed partial to wearing beards, usually trimmed of course, but Eric couldn't let himself grow any facial hair. It grew in patches, some parts of his chin bare as the day he was born and others capable of growing at obviously different speeds. It was more of something to laugh at than fashion.

So he took the razor to his face every morning, cursing his fate whenever he cut himself, which was still too often.

Eric sighed as he set the blade down next to the wash basin and gently ran a hand over his skin to make sure he didn't miss anything. Satisfied, Eric tidied up the area and frowned at his reflection in the mirror hanging above the basin in front of him. He'd noticed a subtle change in his appearance over the past few months. His face was becoming angular and his eyebrow taking on a more slanting shape than was natural for a human. Eric knew that his parents had noticed as well and that the developments worried them, but the topic had yet to arise in conversation.

Briefly, Eric had to wonder about his real parents and why they'd sent him away. Neil and Karina could give him nothing more than the description of the day they had discovered him and his name. But Eric would be willing to swear that every time he saw one of the few Dragon Riders that visited the city, they waved at him and bowed their head slightly in his direction. But he'd never had any other indication than that of anything outside the life he knew.

Satisfied with his appearance as he could possibly be, Eric heaved a nervous sigh and walked back to his room. He was going to see Sara today and talk to her of their relationship. He wanted ask her if, with her father's consent, she would marry him. She was absolutely the most beautiful girl he'd seen and she genuinely seemed interested for him to further his pursuit of her, but he wanted to her it from her lips in her perfect voice that sent a stab of need through Eric every time he heard her speak.

Shaking his head, Eric refocused his thoughts and picked up one of his nicer tunics. If he was going to ask for Sara's hand today, he needed to look more than presentable. Eric was filled with the anticipation and his nerves were clearly on edge. If she rejected him, Eric's relationship would not be quite the same. Despite having courted her for two years since he came of age, he knew that rejection was still a possibility.

Finally finished with his critical examination of his dress and appearance, Eric left his room on the second story of the inn his parents owned and descended the stairs. The common room was filling as the various patrons roused from their slumber and gathered for whatever Eric's mother and the cook had prepared for breakfast. Stopping in the kitchens, Eric grabbed an apple and a biscuit before exiting out the back door.

Following the alley, Eric came to the street and his feet followed the path to the place he'd arranged to meet Sara. She was there, waiting for him in front of the herbalist's shop, and he smiled warmly at her, a gesture that she returned with a slight blush.

"Hello, Eric," she greeted.

"Sara," he returned. "How are you?"

"Better," she admitted. "I was ill longer than the healer first assumed.." Silence rested comfortably between them for a moment. Slowly, their hands met and their fingers became entwined. "You look nice," Sara noted.

It was Eric's turn to blush as he fumbled for a proper response. "My appearance is nowhere near your own beauty," he finally said. Taking a deep breath, he moved and held Sara's other hand as well and stared into her eyes. It was time and he knew it. "Sara... I've been thinking," Sara's eyes lit up at his words, "and I wanted to ask – if you father gives his consent, that is... Sara, will you marry me?"

Silence settled once more, this time it wasn't as comfortable as every other time. Sara blinked and lowered her face, but not before Eric saw a tear roll down her cheek. Worry filled him. He couldn't tell what emotion the tears were from.

"If father agrees," Sara began, causing Eric's already pounding heart to flutter, "then I'll have you." Lifting her face back up to gaze at him, she forced herself to stand taller to meet his lips briefly. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Eric let go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I'll go see him tonight. That will give me time to think of how to approach the subject." Sara nodded her agreement and Just as he began to say something else, he stopped, something behind Sara catching his attention.

"What's wrong?" She asked, letting go of one of Eric's hands so she could turn. Striding towards them was a group of men in uniform. They appeared to be the city's guard, but Eric didn't recognize them, which was impossible. His parents owned one of the most popular inns for both travelers and Tierm's guard. He knew all of the guards by name because he provided entertainment and music almost nightly, often as long as a few hours before dawn.

So that made the group striding toward he and Sara – Eric had no doubt by their gazes where they were heading – more suspicious than anyone else would have guessed. When the group of five were within a few feet from the couple they halted and gazed at Eric.

"You sure this is him?" One of them asked. The man in the middle grunted.

"There's no mistaking the description," Eric stood frozen in place as he tried to think of what five men dressed as city guards wanted with him. "Boy, you're coming with us. There's someone who wants to meet with you." Eric glanced sideways at Sara and shook his head at her questioning eyes. She knew that he knew every guard in the city and she had grown to recognize almost all of them whenever she visited the inn.

"Who would send men dressed as guards?" Eric asked. "I've memorized all of them, you can't fool me."

"That is not for you to know," the leader answered. "Now you will come with us willingly or not. It's your choice." Eric stepped forward, as if to protect Sara.

"You can't make me go anywhere. You have no authority and no power to force me." Eric stood up straight and tensed as he readied himself for what would likely come next.

He was right. When the first man reached for him, Eric grabbed his wrist, threw the man off balance and planted him face down into the street. Not only had he played the part of entertainer, but Eric had also worked to sort out unruly customers on occasion. The problem between men who were drunk and those who were sober was that the sober ones acted faster.

Before Eric could turn around and face the rest of the men, he found his arms yanked to his sides and a rough hand pulling his head back by his hair. Eric struggled, but unlike the first man, who was getting to his feet, the others were prepared and Eric couldn't get the momentum or the leverage needed to escape.

"Be still, boy, or we'll kill the girl," the leader hissed in Eric's ear. His eyes widened, but he stopped moving instantly.

"Eric?" Sara asked in worry.

"I'll be fine, Sara. Go tell my parents I'll be back after a while," Eric told her, hoping his eyes said what he knew words wouldn't be able to express as well as what he might not be able to tell her. "If I go with you, you'll leave Sara out of this," he told the leader in a low voice.

"Of course, of course. Go on girl." Sara didn't move an inch as the men surrounded Eric and led him away, though he looked back longingly. Finally she was no longer in view and Eric resigned himself to his fate. He had the feeling that one way or another, he wouldn't be returning.

* * *

><p>Eric stopped at the tent the men led him to and a feeling of dread filled him. The tent was ominous and threatening and he hadn't even met the person he'd been brought to see yet. The leader of the men stepped into the tent and Eric had difficulty hearing the brief conversation at all. Finally the flap opened and Eric was pulled inside, throwing him off balance and into the ground.<p>

Picking himself up carefully, Eric looked around the interior of the tent, stopping only when he saw the other man. He had blood red hair and maroon eyes. His skin was almost translucent and his teeth filed to points. Eric froze. He was facing a shade.

"Welcome, Eric Älfablödh," the shade greeted, his sharpened teeth appearing even more menacing with his smile. "I have searched eighteen years for you. Ever since you escaped me with that spell." The hair on the back of Eric's neck rose. This shade knew him. It knew about his past before Eric had appeared to his parents. "But I hold you no ill-will. The time I've spent has given me much time to prepare for when I came upon you once more."

With a snap of his fingers, the leader of his captors stood and brought a chest forward placing it directly between Eric and the shade. "Open it, Älfablödh. It has taken much effort to procure this." Eric hesitated and the shade hissed a word he couldn't catch. Pain suddenly wracked Eric's body, causing him to collapse and writhe on the ground. It felt like his body was on fire and being stabbed by thousands upon thousands of needles.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pain subsided, leaving Eric gasped for breath and covered in cold sweat. He was trembling from the aftereffects of whatever magic the shade had used on him. "Now, open it," the shade commanded as Eric began to stir.

Not wanting to experience the pain again, Eric obeyed. He crawled over to the chest and fumbled for a moment with the latch. When he lifted the lid, his breath caught and all of his fear was replaced with awe.

Sitting in the chest was a large green stone with pale veins running through it's otherwise flawless surface. Eric knew the description of such a stone well enough, for he told the story of Eragon Kingkiller at least once every moon. He was looking at a dragon egg.

"If it hatches for you, you shall become a Rider," the shade told him. "I'd hope that it does for your sake." There was no pity in the shade's voice. Reaching out and running the tips of his fingers along the egg, Eric hoped it hatched too. With the dragon he had a hope of escaping the shade. Without it, he'd die. _Please hatch._ He silently plead. _We'll escape somehow, but I need your help._

Nothing happened for the longest time and Eric's heart sank. He was going to die. He had proposed to Sara only to be taken by a shade and then killed because a dragon egg wouldn't hatch for him. Apparently the shade was thinking along the same lines because he chuckled in amusement.

"A pity, Älfablödh. It seems fate has a cruel sense of humor. You manage to escape me when you held power only to be killed by me because you have none." The shade's words echoed in Eric's mind. "Captain, relieve the boy of his head." There was the sound of a sword being drawn from a sheath and when Eric tried to escape, he discovered that he was completely immobile.

The edge of cold steel touched the side of Eric's neck and he sank into despair. He was dead and that was that. Closing his eyes, Eric was just about to accept his fate when a loud squeak interrupted his thoughts. Eric could feel the closeness of the sword form where the captain had stopped in his movement to decapitate Eric. Even the shade was unmoving, a pleased smile on his lips.

Eric stared at the egg, which had been the source of the squeak. It was rocking back and forth as another squeak sounded. It was taking time, but Eric relaxed. He was alive... for now. All that was left was thinking of a way to escape.

Cracks appeared in the egg's surface and splinters broke off and the dragon within fought to get out. Able to move once more, Eric touched the egg again, eliciting a squeak that caused his ears to ring before the egg burst apart.

The emerald green dragon shook itself and looked around, finally resting its eyes on Eric. His fingers were still inches away from the dragon where they'd been when the egg shattered. The dragon squeaked when Eric made no move to touch it and pressed its nose against the palm of his right hand. It felt as if his entire arm had been plunged into ice water. With a shout of surprise, Eric pulled his hand away. The act was done though and in the center of Eric's palm was the same diffused silver oval that he had told about in his stories at the inn.

Eric blinked at the symbol of his new station. He was now a Dragon Rider. And he was on his knees before a shade with his hatchling partner. The dragon seemed oblivious to its situation.

"Well, Eric... it appears you've been saved. Captain, put your sword away," the shade ordered. "Now Rider, you will swear to serve me." Eric's eyes widened. That was what he was dreading. He knew of oaths in the tongue of the elves and how binding they were if said a certain way.

"Not if I can help it," Eric muttered, though he knew that he likely couldn't. Pain erupted through him again, blocking out everything and numbing his very soul.

"Come now, Rider. Your dragon feels your pain. You may be able to withstand it, but can you bear your dragon to be tortured as well," the shade admonished with a smirk. Eric only response was an agonized scream.

Once more, seconds turned to hours and minutes to years. Finally it stopped, but Eric hardly noticed, he lay curled in the fetal position shaking uncontrollably as silent tears ran from his eyes. He could feel the pain of his dragon, who hadn't been able to defend against such an assault either. It was as if Eric had been struck by twice the pain.

"You will swear yourself to me, Eric, or I will break you."

"I'll kill you," Eric managed to hissed as his mind recovered and he glared at the shade. "I refuse to swe-" He was cut short as he screamed when a new wave of pain came. He thought he was going to die, despite knowing that the pain was meant to incapacitate him only.

"GANGA!" The exclamation broke through the barrier created by the pain and rang like music in Eric's skull. The pain ceased and the sound of combat forced Eric to keep his eyes open, trying to see what was happening. Craning his neck, he saw the tent flap fly open as an arrow was loosed by an unseen archer. The projectile halted mid flight a foot from the shade. A dark haired man followed the arrow, however, his red sword glinting with the promise of blood.

The captain didn't stand a chance as his chest was laid open without effort, his warm, crimson blood splattering Eric's prone body as well as the ground, sides, and ceiling of the tent. The man didn't even slow once as he killed the captain, he just continued towards the shade, who deflected the slash almost lazily. Shaking, Eric pushed himself to his feet as he caught a glimpse of his dragon. It was looking at his with its emerald eyes, studying him carefully.

The blows being exchanged between the man and the shade were so fast, both appeared to be only blurs to Eric. With any last ounce of his will, Eric leaned to pick up the fallen man's sword so he could join the battle, but stumbled and collapsed to one knee, landing hard on the ground. Frustration filled Eric as he was forced to watch the battle for his freedom. That frustration filled him with energy, though he still had trouble moving on his bruised knee after the shade's torture.

The energy was quickly becoming painful as Eric picked up the sword and turned to completely face the fight taking place inside the tent. It wasn't until that energy threatened to tear him apart in a way that the shade's magic hadn't that Eric realized what was happening to him. "Brisingr," he snarled the word and threw the sword at the shade as hard as he could manage.

It flew true, but the shade's wards stopped the weapon just as they had stopped the arrow. They didn't stop the green colored fire that burst forth from the blade, however. At that same instant the man struck at the shade, the edge of his sword finding the shade's neck, severing head from shoulders. There was an unearthly howl of pain before mist formed, obscuring his shape. Another cry sounded and then the mist vanished, the shade with it, leaving behind only his clothes.

Eric staggered at his use of magic, but smiled. He was free from the shade. Surely the person who had saved him wasn't anywhere as evil as the shade had been.

The man cursed as he kicked the pile of clothes. "Meant for that one to just be a distraction," he growled before turning on Eric. "Every time you leave Ynys Skulblaka, Eric, you find yourself in trouble. And it's always because of magic too," the man told him, sounding exasperated. Upon a closer look Eric saw what the red blade truly was: a Rider's sword. "If I hadn't tried scrying you, you would still be in trouble. As it is, Thorn needs to rest before we can consider traveling again."

The name rang a bell in Eric's head and his eyes widened. Murtagh, the redeemed son of Morzan, had come to rescue him. And to make matters more confused, Murtagh knew who Eric was, though Eric was sure they'd never met.

"Not in nearly twenty years, we haven't, Eric," Murtagh said, as if answering his thoughts. The Rider sighed after a moment. "It's damned difficult to stay angry at you, even when you don't remember anything." Both comments sparked more questions and before Eric could start speaking, he collapsed, his legs finally giving out.

Murtagh didn't say anything as he sheathed Zar'roc and made a bird call by whistling. Moments later, twenty cloaked figures stepped into the tent, their bodies and faces hidden completely from view.

"Eric," Murtagh began with a smile. "Welcome back. And on behalf of my brother, welcome to the Order."


	4. Chapter 2: Reunion

**A/N:** I remain impressed with myself. I managed to type 3000 words for Chapter 1 in a single day. Even when my mind was threatening me with Writer's Block and a sudden desire to no longer write. If not for the words from the father of a former friend, I would have succumbed to said desire. His words: "Shut up and write". Okay so I updated the chapters... in the wrong way... so if you had problems, I apologize. I did not see the replace/update content section when updating. I discovered that I've been misspelling "blödh" as "blöd". I'm a stickler for spelling so that is the reason... Also I'm thinking about downgrading the rating if I can't get my head on straight. Battle scenes used to be my forte, but with my break from writing I find myself struggling.

Anyway, here's the next chapter. Review please. I'm eager to know if I meet your standards.

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle_ or any other literary works.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two – Reunion<strong>

Eric sighed as he sat cross-legged in front of his rapidly growing dragon. He had made sure to spend most of his free time teaching his companion words and growing to learn what he could of their bond. Murtagh had explained nothing of how he knew Eric from before the time he was born nor anything else he knew, though it seemed that Murtagh and his companions, who Eric had learned within a few minutes of meeting them were not Riders. A few had taken it upon themselves to coach Eric in the Ancient Language and to teach him the fundamentals of magic so that he wouldn't accidentally kill himself until Eric had reached the point in his training where it would be safe to start learning spells.

Murtagh had explained that Eric needed to learn to use a sword and shield his mind above anything else. Sword practice lasted until Eric could hardly move, which was a lot longer than he would have liked. Murtagh didn't seem surprised at Eric's stamina. While Eric had known that he was inhuman when it came to his stamina, he hadn't ever tested his limits.

Sighing, Eric finished recounting the day's lessons to his dragon and absently stroked its head and back as it moved to lay beside him.

_Eric._ He heard a voice say inside his mind. The voice was unmistakably male, though the pitch was high and musical. The dragon's use of his name though forced a new train of thought into Eric's head.

"You need a name, don't you?" The dragon at his side merely blinked up at him. "It's been a month and you've grown, surely you've learned enough that you desire a name."

_Name..._

"That's right," Eric said, "a name. Something to call you besides dragon... What about Eridor?" Smoke puffed from the dragon's nostrils as Eric felt amusement drift through the bond.

_No._ This refusal sparked a list of names from Eric's mouth. Each was denied, but some gave the dragon pause to consider. After rejecting perhaps the thirtieth or so name, Eric sighed irritably. "You should be named Rhys for how much enthusiasm you seem to have rejecting every other name I can think of."

The dragon didn't respond. Instead, it puffed out more smoke as if deep in thought. _Yes... Rhys... I am Rhys._ Eric's eyebrows rose. He'd meant the name as a sarcastic joke, but the dragon had accepted it nonetheless.

"Your name... is Rhys," Eric repeated.

_Yes._ More amusement drifted through their bond as Eric and Rhys stared into each others' eyes. Running his hand alongside Rhys' neck, Eric wondered just how intelligent his dragon was now. Despite a seemingly limited vocabulary, Rhys showed an unnerving level of sentience for his age.

"You truly are a mystery," Eric muttered as Rhys' tongue darted forward and tasted the air between them.

_Only because you do not see._

Eric was about to reply when the tent flap opened and Murtagh stepped inside. Turning his head to the right to face his teacher, Eric remained seated as Rhys tilted his own head to the side to silently study the other Rider.

"We're packing up. Govad's amassing his forces. We need to get you and your dragon to safety in case he wants revenge."

"How are we going to travel?" Eric asked. "I can't exactly fly away on Rhys yet." Rhys seemed to snort and yet another cloud of smoke issued. An image of the horses outside drifted from the dragon's thoughts. Eric tensed. He had no experience riding horses.

"We need you to get used to riding a dragon, so you'll be riding Thorn for a couple hours every day. During that time, he'll teach you and the both of you will scout the surrounding area. When you aren't flying with Thorn, you'll be riding my horse while I fly," Murtagh explained. "Sword practice will be at night, but we'll work on your mind throughout the day." Eric forced himself to hold back a groan. His mental training had the tendency to give Eric a headache.

Without a word, Eric stood and exited the tent with Rhys at his side. The dragon's shoulder easily reached Eric's chest and if it weren't for Rhys' spikes along his neck, back, and tail, Eric probably could have practiced riding, even if the riding wouldn't be able to fly with him quite yet.

"Yorick!" Murtagh called, as he exited the tent as well. The man Eric had come to know as Yorick ran over and before Eric could see what the two were about to do, he was swept up in packing supplies into saddlebags. All of the preparation was almost done, leaving Eric free to converse with a few of the others, especially Gareth, who Eric had managed to learn was a close friend of Eric's family. Past that, however, Eric was met with a wall, blocking him from further information.

It was truly maddening. Every time he thought about it, it seemed as if he'd lived a life before he was even born. Murtagh knew him from two years before Eric's birth and refused to explain how that was possible. No one said anything about Eric's family either, and when asked about them the drawn expressions showed such grief and sorrow that it left Eric wanting to know what happened even more.

As he dwelt on the subject, Eric began remembering how even the shade, Govad, had known him. And how the Riders he'd seen from a distance seemed to watch him upon occasion. There was a secret that everyone around him seemed to know and wouldn't tell him.

_Peace, Eric,_ Rhys told him. _Answers shall come._

"You're not helping," Eric growled. "You don't know anything either. And I thought dragons were supposed to get what they want."

_Yes... but I do not seek this. You do._ Rhys spoke slowly and Eric sensed his irritation as the dragon struggled to put thoughts into the correct words for Eric native tongue. Even though he was intelligent, Rhys obviously hadn't fully learned to speak in a human language. He was more conversational in the Ancient Language than Eric was... if only because Eric struggled to remember the various words and their translations.

Crossing over to Gareth, Eric smiled in greeting. "Greetings, Gareth." The man looked up from the saddlebags of his horse and the corners of his own lips curled in a slight smile.

"Hail, Eric," Gareth returned. "What bothers you? I always could tell when you were struggling with something whenever you visited." His words sent another spear of irritation through Eric.

"It's things like that," Eric answered, not bothering to hide how angry he was. "I realize I'm in danger, but I don't know why. That shade singled me out, believing me capable of becoming a Dragon Rider. He called me Älfablödh. You have deliberately withheld any words that might give me the meaning behind that title, though I can well enough guess at it myself. All of you, Murtagh, the Riders, and even the shade knew me. I don't know about the Riders, but all of you have hinted at having spent time with me before I was supposed to have been born." A muscle in Gareth's face twitched. "I'm tried of being in the dark, Gareth. If you can tell me, do so."

Gareth didn't answer. Instead, he turned back to his saddlebags. "The Shur'tugalar have requested we not tell you anything yet," he answered, moving through them. "It is for your safety..." Eric's eyes narrowed in annoyance while Gareth paused, continuing to rummage through the items he had stored. "But we have not sworn against showing or giving you anything that is already yours." Eric heart skipped a beat and curiosity drifted between both himself and Rhys as Gareth pulled a long, wrapped bundle.

"Eragon assumed you would send this to Murtagh, who would keep it safe until you returned and were ready... if you ever returned." With those words, Gareth held out the bundle and pressed it into Eric's hands. "When it did not appear to Murtagh, they questioned me. Despite speaking in the Ancient Language, I might as well have lied. I apologize, but I can't help you further. You may have left clues, but I think not. The spell seemed complicated enough to have done much more." Without another word, Gareth led his horse away from Eric, who was staring down at the bundle with more questions than he thought he had ever had before.

Keeping his back to everyone, Eric started at the widest part of the bundle and carefully unwrapped the cloth. When the cloth finally fell away from the object, his breath caught in amazement.

In Eric's hands was a green Rider's blade. A hand and a half, silver-wire-wrapped hilt was now exposed to the air. Resting in a socket on the pommel was a large emerald. The cross-guard was green and Eric could see that the metal wasn't painted. The green color came from whatever metal the elven smiths had used to forge it.

Letting the cloth fall further, Eric noted the same metal the cross-guard was made of also formed the scabbard, though it also possessed some patches of silver that gave it a pleasing look to the eye. On the side of the sheath that faced out, Eric noted a black glyph carved into the metal. Drawing the sword, Eric saw the same glyph on the flat of the emerald green blade, along with a line of runes Eric _could_ read.

_I am Rekfeigr, Avenger of the Dead._

Sliding the sword back into its sheathe, Eric let the cloth drop entirely on the ground and held it out to Rhys. "What do you think?" He asked, noting briefly that the color of the blade matched Rhys' scales.

_It has a nice color,_ came the dragon's reply. Eric couldn't help the laugh that burst from his throat.

"Of course you'd think that." Taking the time to buckle the sword to his waist, Eric hurried over to where Murtagh stood next to Thorn, as if waiting for Eric to join him... which was probably exactly what he was waiting for. Thankful that Gareth had helped Eric at least a little, Eric's anger melted slightly with each step he took. He knew that Gareth would help him as much as he could.

Now that he thought of it, he was pretty sure that oaths had been made to ensure that nobody could answer Eric's questions until given permission. But Gareth seemed to have found loopholes in the oath. The man had taken a risk, but Eric thought he had a right to know what was so important about him.

Now he had a little bit more of an idea, especially considering Gareth's mention that Rekfeigr had been Eric's from "before", whatever that meant, and that Eric had sent the sword to Gareth instead of Murtagh.

Eric stopped ten feet from Murtagh, who was facing away from him and looking into Thorn's eye. Finally the man turned around and his eyes traveled down to Rekfeigr, narrowing at the sight. "I always assumed Gareth possessed it and here's the proof." Murtagh's voice was angry and low.

"I had a right to know," Eric responded in the same tone. "This was the best he could do." Murtagh's lips thinned, but he said nothing as he motioned for Eric to climb onto Thorn.

"Thorn and I have decided that there's someone you should meet. There you will be safe while we continue your training." Without another word, Murtagh ran his hand down Thorn's foreleg affectionately before walking towards the horses.

_Eric,_ Thorn said in a voice just as musical as Rhys'. _You should climb into the saddle. There is much you must still learn before we arrive and the journey will not be many days. Also, mind not my Rider. He still struggles, just as I did. Even after five centuries._ Eric nodded as he carefully scaled the red dragon's leg and managed to pull himself into the leather saddle. _Strap your legs in. You must become accustomed to flying and aerial maneuvers._ Eric followed the mental instructions from Thorn as his hands fumbled with the foreign leg straps.

Finally he was ready. Looking down at Rhys, Eric smiled grimly.

_Be safe, my Rider._

_You aren't exactly inspiring confidence in me._ He heard Rhys snort in amusement before Thorn thrust himself into the air. With three flaps of his enormous wings, the pair became airborne and Eric's stomach began doing flips.

As they flew Thorn continued Eric's tutelage in the Ancient Language, as Murtagh below stabbed to Eric's mind. Often in the middle of an important part of a lesson, earning him a sharp reprimand from Thorn or the Rider when Eric missed the dragon's words or when Murtagh's assault succeeded.

A few hours after they started, Thorn landed and Eric switched places with Murtagh, the others taking over his lessons as Murtagh continued his occasional, and always unexpected, mental probes.

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><p>A week later, after avoiding most towns and cities except to resupply, Eric noticed the party had entered the edges of the great forest, Du Weldenvarden.<p>

His flights with Thorn ended as the dragon became grounded so they could pass the wards surrounding the forest. Eric had loved the time and looked forward to the day Rhys would be large enough to ride. Having felt Eric's enjoyment, Rhys was only too happy at the anticipation.

Eric was snapped from his thoughts as Murtagh stabbed at his mind again, this time to get his attention for Eric to focus on Gareth's lesson. Without needing to be asked, the man repeated his question. "What are the words for the four basic natural elements?"

"Brisingr, deloi, adurna, vindr," Eric answered, without needing to think.

"Light?"

"Garjzla." And so the hours passed by as the group moved as fast as they could into the safety of the elven trees. Eric learned that they would be avoiding the elves' cities as well until they came to the capitol city of Ellesméra.

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><p>"When we arrive, do not start any violence. Follow the rules of courtesy we have taught you, and whatever you do... don't lose your temper," Murtagh instructed as they neared the elven capitol. "They may forgive one lapse due to your... circumstances, but not much. The person were are coming to meet will be waiting for you. Follow customs and don't dishonor yourself or anyone else." Eric nodded. He had no intention of messing up. He could hardly believe that he was in elven territory, even if he hadn't seen any elves yet.<p>

As they passed by trees that seemed at least eighty feet around, Eric grew increasingly nervous. Time flowed by as Eric took in the beauty of the forest around him. Finally they stopped as an old looking elf in flowing robes, wearing a silver circlet, and illuminated by a ray of light, stood before them. Murtagh touched two fingers to his lips before holding out his left palm for the elf to see his gedwëy ignasia. Eric was quick to imitate him. The elf looked over the remainder of the group and said nothing, but rather held his arms up to welcome them. Murtagh motioned for the group to begin moving again and after they had passed, Eric looked back, only to see that the elf had vanished.

But that didn't stop the words from entering his mind. _Welcome back to Ellesméra, Eric Älfablödh. _Eric couldn't be certain, but he was sure that it was the elf who had spoken to him.

Eric could feel the gazes of many unseen people as he rode. Time continued on and Eric started to wonder where the buildings were before he began noticing patterns in the trees. He had heard that the elves sang their homes from trees, but he hadn't thought them to be the trees themselves.

After a few minutes, Murtagh had to group stop at the base of one of the trees and Thorn let out a mighty roar that forced Eric to cover his ears. Another roar answered the red dragon and second later a large dragon appeared from the backside of the tree, gliding down towards them. The dragon's scales were a dark forest green, except for on its belly and the pads of its feet, where the scales were lighter in color. It was a majestic sight to behold and Eric found himself looking down at Rhys, who was humming as he beheld the dragon's descent.

When it landed, Eric clearly saw the dragon's Rider. She was taller than most men with tawny skin, raven-black hair that flowed freely, and slanted green eyes. Her face was obviously that of an elf, for Eric could see no human broadness in the angular features. Her tunic was a light green and light brown pants.

Once more following Murtagh's example, Eric dismounted and waited as the elf jumped from her dragon's back. He was surprised that she wasn't in a saddle, but then realized that for a short flight there was likely no need., Looking at her face, it took a moment before Eric got over the elf's stunning beauty and realized that Murtagh was telling him to go meet her and to not forget proper etiquette.

Nervously, Eric did as he was told, stopping only a few feet from the elf's searching gaze. Finally he remembered what to do. Touching his lips, Eric completed the gesture as he was instructed. "Atra esterní ono thelduin," he began.

"Atra du evarínya ono varda," the Rider responded.

"Un atra mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr." The elf's eyes sparkled in joy as Eric spoke the optional sentence. "I have heard you have waited to mee-" Before Eric could finish, the elf pulled him into a tight embrace.

"It is good to see you well again, o child of my blood." Eric grunted as she gave a tighter squeeze and return the gesture slightly, though it was obvious he felt uncomfortable doing so. Finally the elf released him and smiled warmly, looking like she had just rediscovered a long lost friend. "Judging by your appearance, you don't remember who I am." Eric shook his head, ashamed, yet annoyed that he was talking to one more person who seemed to know him incredibly well. "Then I believe I should introduce myself to you." Her green eyes caught hold of Eric's and he realized that they were the exact shade his were. "I am Arya Shadeslayer, daughter of the late Queen Islanzadí, and Rider of Fírnen. And you, Eric Älfablödh," Eric blinked at her sudden focus on him, "are the last member of the family my mate and I built since the rebirth of the Riders."

Eric could have sworn that the time stopped as soon as he heard those words.

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><p><strong>AN: **So looking at my only review and the number of visitors this fanfiction is drawing, I must say a wholehearted "Thank You" to my readers. I only wish more of you would post a review to let me hear your thoughts. But no matter. Cookie, I must admit that while I have thought about your questions when I started writing this fanfiction, you actually asking them brought them to the forefront of my mind, which led to me typing out answers which I will not say here since they would detract from the mystery that I am indeed trying to throw on Eric's past... though there are times I believe that I gave too much away.

Anyhow, reviews are welcome. And I should probably mention that I'm posting the chapters as I type them, so regular updates shouldn't be expected since I'm almost certainly bound to run into some trouble with Writer's Block in later chapters as I give more flesh to the conflict and try to improve upon my writing abilities.


	5. Chapter 3: Clues

**A/N:** There's nothing like waking up in the morning, turning on my laptop, and getting back to writing... no matter how many hours of sleep I've had. It truly is a good thing I have no social life. Though I still have the time in a day for one, the people I see on a regular basis fail to interest me enough to even draw me from my room.

So basically I've revealed a few things about Eric's past that you wouldn't have already known after the prologue. But the title of this chapter speaks for itself... and it took a fair bit of research and looking through the books to make sure I had all the facts straight.

But review please. I'd be grateful.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle_ or any other literary works.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three – Clues<strong>

Eric's heart was pounding in his chest. He was standing front of a member of the family he'd been wondering about for nearly his entire life. And she was Arya Shadeslayer, Dragon Rider and queen of the elves at that! "W-who's your mate?" Eric stammered, still blown away from the declaration.

Arya smiled. "From what I've heard of your new life this far, you already know the answer to that." Eric did nothing, though she was correct. He did know. He had recited enough stories that there was no doubt in Eric's mind who Arya's mate was.

Looking around, Eric watched as all the gazes he felt on him materialized into elves. Amazement and awe flooded through him. Eric could hardly believe his fate. "Aye, I know who," Eric whispered breathlessly. "Eragon." The name slipped unbidden from his lips and once more he was overcome with wonder. He was related to the most powerful people in Alagaësia.

Looking down at Rhys, Eric noticed that the emerald green dragon was no longer near him, but was rather being examined by Arya's dragon, Fírnen, off behind the elf.

"Come with me, Eric," Arya said after a while. "You must be weary from your journey and there is still much that you need to hear." Gazing behind him, Arya nodded, and Eric heard his companions disperse.

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><p>Eric's back was to the wall as he sat on the pillow in the house Arya was using. She had explained that while the house was meant to be the home of the head of the Riders, Eragon avoided leaving Ynys Skulblaka except for matters of grave importance.<p>

A scroll sat beside him and Rekfeigr lay cradled in his arms. The make of the sword was different than those the other Riders possessed. The metal was the same, for Eric had seen enough of Zar'roc and Arya's own sword, Támerlein, to notice the cable-like patterns in the metal that mirrored those in Rekfeigr.

What he didn't understand was the scabbard. The odd type of steel that made up the sword had also been expertly forged into a sheathe for his blade. Every other Rider's sheath was made of wood that was colored the same as the Rider's dragon. They had steel adorning them on the ends and at the scabbard's mouth. The steel and silver design that was what housed Eric's sword was nothing like the others, suggesting that additional care and craftsmanship went into it. The silver shone with a light green hue as Eric's eyes drifted over the spiraling etchings adorning it. The black glyph towards the scabbard's mouth stood out, even on the dark emerald-colored steel it was carved in.

Eric sighed as his thumb ran over it. Gareth had told him that Eric might have "left clues", but Eric didn't even know where to look, what those clues might be, or even how he could have done anything as a newborn baby boy who was still new to the world.

"Wyrda!" A bleached white raven shrieked suddenly from the open window to the study. Eric jumped and turned his head to face the bird.

"The old are young.

The young are old.

When memory fades,

the past is broken.

But still one may find

secrets for the blind."

Eric cocked an eyebrow at the raven, who made no move to explain his riddle. They just stared at each other before the raven let out a loud _caw_ and flew back out into the forest.

"I must apologize for Blagden," Arya voice came from the doorway to the living quarters. "Not much he says makes sense." Looking over at her, Eric smiled grimly.

"I believe he was just saying what I was thinking," he answered. "It's confusing, you know? Everyone knowing me, but having no clue how they do or what they refer to from the past. Whatever life I lived before... whatever happened to lead to this..." Eric sighed. "It's difficult, and frustrating all at once."

"I'm sure this never would have happened had you not made certain decisions, Eric. But the past has happened and we can do naught to change that." Arya moved over and sat down in front of him. There was silence for a while as Eric let his thoughts drift.

"There are times I want everyone to just explain everything," he finally admitted. "But then I also want to discover all of it on my own. I want to see if Gareth's assumption is right and if during whatever happened I somehow left clues that would lead me to answers." Arya didn't answer at first. Following her gaze, Eric found that she was looking at Rekfeigr.

"Rhunön has never made a sword such as yours before," she told him. "When I first asked, you refused to answer the question directly. You told me that Rekfeigr would stand between the people of Alagaësia and those who wished to disrupt the peace brought by the Shur'tugalar." She held out her hand slowly. "May I?"

Eric gave one look at the sheathed blade and carefully set it into Arya's grasp. She studied the scabbard as if she were seeing it for the first time. After a while, she drew the sword and laid the sheath across her lap. She placed her hand against the egg-sized emerald set into the pommel and stiffened as if struck by lightning. Eric watched her eyes refocus and stare at the emerald.

"Incredible..." she whispered, breathless. "Touch the gem with your mind," she instructed. Eric was confused for a moment as he did the opposite of what he'd been taught over the past month. Instead of shrinking his consciousness and shielding himself, Eric lowered his barriers and cautiously reached forward with his thoughts.

When he reached into the emerald, the raging torrent of energy overwhelmed him and Eric withdrew instantly, gasping for air. "What was that?" He wheezed. He could see why Arya had been rendered breathless. The amount of energy was astounding.

"It's stored energy. Someone must have put it in there for later use." Her eyes found Eric's as he continued to struggle to regain control of his breathing. "You must have stored it in there. Whatever its purpose, you were the last person to have handle this sword before it disappeared. Gareth swore to Murtagh and I that he had not done anything to Rekfeigr." Her gaze dropped back down to the emerald. "What is truly frightening is that the emerald seems full, as if it cannot take anymore energy at all."

"What do you mean energy?" Eric asked, finally regaining control of himself.

"How much have you been taught of magic?" Eric let out a snort of laughter at the question.

"Honestly?" He said. "Very little. I learned words and how to access it to keep myself from accidentally casting spell, but there was so little actually said, I haven't cast any spells for fear that I might kill myself through ignorance. Du Vrangr Gata has warned enough people about the dangers that those who can use magic are often spirited away now."

"Then do you know what fuels your spells?" Eric nodded.

"The energy of my body." Arya nodded at the answer, but it was obvious to Eric that he was still wrong.

"Not entirely," she explained. "It is energy, but if that strength is flowing through you, whether it's from another person or has been stored in a gem,, you can use that to power a spell just as well as if you used your own strength."

Eric's eyes widened as he looked back to the emerald. If that was the case, then how much power did he now possess? "Eric, it is extremely difficult to completely fill a gem and however long it took for you to do this means that you were planning something. If this is the case, Gareth's assumption may not be completely off."

Eric's head nodded as his mind reached back out to the gem. His breath still caught as the waves buffeted his mind from all sides, but through the surges of the energy, one impression made itself clear to Eric's mind.

Withdrawing back into his own mind and raising his barriers again, Eric followed his link to Rhys, who was being taught the specifics of flight and the knowledge a dragon needed from Fírnen and Thorn. His partner was happy at Eric's desire to contact him. They didn't connect mentally very often, usually because Eric still had trouble getting used to the idea of sharing his mind constantly.

Sharing the memory of his conversation with Arya and the secret of Rekfeigr's emerald, Rhys was silent as he dwelt on the new information while Thorn had him practice pulling out of a steep dive.

_It seems to me that you must follow the impression,_ the dragon finally replied.

_Aye, that's what I was thinking as well._

_Then it seems we truly are one of mind and thought, despite the distance you insist upon, my Rider._

_I want you with me when I do this though, _Eric continued, ignoring Rhys' jab at him. _I'll ask Arya or one of the elves to show me where to go, but I think this would be done best if you were beside me._

_Very well, Eric._ Eric started to withdraw completely from the contact, but then decided against it and kept Rhys always in his thoughts.

"Is there anything else you can tell about my sword, Arya?" Eric asked as the elf studied the blade. She was focusing on the lettering running down the flat. As her mouth formed the words silently, tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away though before looking back up at him.

"Nothing that you won't find out sooner or later," she answered. "I'd prefer not to say though, the memories are still painful." Eric didn't doubt it. Whatever reason the sword had been forge for, it had been named to avenge those who had been killed.

And now he had his first actual clue. The impressed words ran through his mind once more and Eric gave a slight smile as Arya sheathed the sword and handed it back to him.

He'd been told:_ Rhun__ö__n is the start. Ask the smith._

* * *

><p>Rhys walked beside him as Eric knocked on the doorway of Rhunön's forge. The sound of a hammer hitting metal ceased and he managed to catch a raspy voice uttering a curse. He waited only seconds before an elf woman who Eric was surprised to see possessed signs of aging.<p>

"What do you want?" She asked in the same raspy voice he'd overheard and thought it sounded like some of the older patrons he'd told stories to who smoked their pipes their whole lives.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Rhunön svit-kona," Eric said, performing the proper motions for the greeting. The woman's eyes narrowed, but she did not respond. Finally she seemed to remember what whatever it was she'd forgotten.

"Ha," she barked in amusement. "You've returned, have you, Älfablödh?" Eric blinked, surprised by how the elf was acting. Rhunön was practically the exact opposite of what he'd been told on how the elves behaved. "I remember you well enough. You demanded that I make you a sword fit for a Rider, though you weren't part of their order." Eric stiffened.

"I apologize, Rhunön svit-kona," he said sincerely. "I do not remember that, but I ask your forgiveness nonetheless." The elf gave another bark of laughter.

"Forgive you? You spoke your mind, there's nothing to forgive." Eric could feel Rhys' annoyance at being largely ignored. He had been growing accustomed to the elves' praise of him. "I see you still carry that very blade. I was very upset when I learned that you had sent it away without telling anyone where." Her eyes finally drifted off to Eric's right where Rhys stood, watching her intently. "And now I see that my work was premature. It matches your companion perfectly. Well met, Skulblaka."

_Well met, Rhunön svit-kona._ The elf frowned at the honorific.

"It seems my kind has corrupted you already with their needless social rituals." She turned her back and moved to pick up the hammer she had left next to the anvil the beginnings of a piece of mail was being constructed. Stopping, she turned again. "Let me see it."

Without hesitation, Eric handed over the sword to the elf, who held it delicately as she looked over the scabbard. "I don't know why you asked such a sheath of me, Älfablödh. I am still loathe to have used precious brightsteel on something that does not see battle. The silver alone sees to that."

"Why did you agree then?" Eric was not prepared for the look of disgust he received.

"You spun so many excuses I cannot recall them all. But the purpose for which you asked this blade of me was to give you the power to avenge your family for your failure." The response took Eric aback. He had assumed by what Arya had told him that she did not wish to tell him more because it was too painful had something to do with the family Arya claimed to be gone.

Rhunön drew Rekfeigr and frowned as she read the human runes etched into the sword's surface. With another barking laugh, the elf sighted down the blade's edges and tested the metal's flexibility. "It is still perfect as the day it left my forge." She turned her attention back to Eric. "You said you wanted a sword that surpassed your ancestors'. If it does not, then it came close or is equal. You are taller than Shadeslayer, but your hands are roughly the same size so I had to make the blade longer than Brisingr. Even with your addition, it is a work of beauty. Take care of it."

She sheathed the sword and was about to hand it back to Eric when he realized that he still didn't know anything he hadn't guessed at. "Why would I need a Rider's sword if I wasn't a Rider?" Rhunön's eyes darkened.

"You claimed there was a danger your family discovered, which caused their deaths. You would not describe the horror that attack you, but claimed that normal steel did not harm it. I told you to send the Rider's, but you were too hung in your grief." The elf turned away again. Picking up a set of tongs, she readied another link for the chain mail. "Now begone. I tire of this talk."

Eric just stood there, watching as the elven smith welded link after link. "Where?" He finally asked. Rhunön stopped, mid swing, and, with a curse, turned her head to look at him.

"Vroengard." Eric stared at Rhys in concern. He knew the stories of Vroengard. How after the Fall of the Riders, the residual magic and energies had drawn dark beings to dwell there. Whatever had led Eric and his family there was obviously a matter of importance, since their connection to Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer was too close to risk for normal reasons.

If it was at Vroengard that Eric's path had started, then he needed to prepare to have his path end at the cursed Rider stronghold as well.

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><p><strong>AN**: So what do you think? Does Eric's quest end at Vroengard? Or is it just the beginning of some darker evil? If you've made it this far, I'll let you know that I take reviews in the form of praise, criticism, and critiques. If you are interested in proofreading each chapter before I post them, I'm willing to arrange something. Shoot me a PM, email, or just put it in a review.

Thank you so much for making it this far. Just bear with me as I continue to move Eric along his path.


	6. Chapter 4: Secrets

**A/N:** So note to self... don't post two chapters on the same day unless it's at the same time. It didn't put my fic at the top of the list again... I did that with Chapter Three... and decided to repost it at midnight since nobody had even seen it until yesterday anyway.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle _or any other literary works.

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><p><strong>Chapter Four – Secrets<strong>

_Eric, have you thought this through?_ Rhys asked. _From what you know and what we've been told, Vroengard is dangerous for a normal Rider and I don't wish to lose you._

_How would you feel in my position, Rhys?_ Eric demanded of the dragon through their link. _I can't just stand by and do nothing as a shade roams the land and some evil walks the land that killed at least five generations of my family. We know what Rekfeigr was made for. What more do we possibly need?_

_Perhaps this was to reveal to you the larger problem or just a part of it,_ Rhys tried to reason. _ Without training, we would not last what killed so many. I do not doubt that your family included powerful magicians, taught by both the elves and then the Riders._

Eric sighed. The emerald dragon was right. If he rushed off to Vroengard without thinking, Eric would be going to his death. _Okay I'll humor you and say you're correct. What other clues do we have?_

_Perhaps you didn't ask the right question of Rhunön._

_Then what _is_ the "right question", Rhys?_ Eric snapped back at him._ I asked her everything I could think of. She doesn't know anything. She only knows about my family, which I could get from anybody._ Eric sighed before he finally picked at the seed cakes sitting on the desk in front of him. Arya had been gone when Eric returned from Rhunön's forge, Fírnen with her, leaving Eric to ponder the smith's words with Rhys.

Rhys roared in frustration, startling Eric. His dragon had never been this temperamental before. _For someone who used to be so wise, you are very foolish, Eric._ Rhys glared mentally at his Rider. _If you were capable of leaving this one hint, then you were able to leave yourself others. If not through the spell that resulted in your particular situation, then in the time you spent leading up to that moment. I chose you because I felt that you possessed the qualities to make a good Rider. Now use those qualities and think like you would._

Eric was stunned into silence, his thoughts completely still as what Rhys said settled in. _Okay,_ Eric replied softly. _Let's start with what I know. What is that?_

_You persuaded Rhunön to forge you a unique scabbard and Rider's sword that matches my scales and named it Rekfeigr. Sometime later you etched the other words on it and filled the gem with as much energy as it would hold. Within that energy you left a spell to give you the impression to ask Rhunön about something._

_So, assuming that what I was supposed to ask about was Vroengard, we knew what happened to my family. Next is the spell that caused all this confusion for me. There's enough evidence to support that, however, I managed I cast a spell to revert to a younger age. Govad made it clear that I escaped him at roughly the same time father found me. That was probably when I cast it._ Rhys seemed to agree with the theory.

_The spell sent your sword to Gareth as well,_ the dragon reminded him. The information snapped into place within Eric's mind and he suddenly knew where to go next.

_Gareth may have said he couldn't help anymore at the time, but if he were to get permission from Arya, Eragon, or Murtagh, I'm sure he'd tell me everything he knew._

_Perhaps not everything, Eric,_ Rhys corrected. _But enough to help us look further._ Eric nodded as he finished the last seed cake. _If Gareth can't tell us or help any more than he has then perhaps he might think of something if we tell him everything we've figured out._

"Then it's decided." Eric stood and buckled Rekfeigr to his belt. "Rhys, I'll see you at the base of the tree."

The gardens of Tialdarí Hall were beautiful as Eric and Rhys walked by them. Having received directions from a passing elf, Eric arrived at Gareth's room and knocked. When no answer came, Eric knocked again. Again, Gareth did not answer.

The screen door opened smoothly and just as Eric was about to enter, he heard someone clear his throat behind him. Spinning in place, Eric found himself face to face with Yorick. The man studied Eric with probing eyes and he smiled mysteriously. Of all of the men Murtagh had brought with him when he rescued Eric, Eric disliked Yorick the most. The man had too many secrets it seemed and every word from the man's lips sounded with hundreds of hidden meanings.

"I would not enter one of our number's quarters so carelessly, Älfablödh. Diminshed we may be, you would only find regret and pain without permission," the man said, still smiling.

"We're looking for Ga-"

"He's not here." Eric's eyes narrowed.

"I can see that," Eric growled. "Could you tell me where he is?" Yorick's eyes unfocused as if he were thinking.

"I believe I could," he answered, rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He didn't add anything more, however.

"Will you tell me where Gareth is?" Eric asked, growing impatient. Yorick's smile only widened.

"Yes... I do believe I will." Eric waited but Yorick's smile only widened further. Eric's hand fell to Rekfeigr's pommel and his knuckles turned stark white as he gripped the emerald in anger and frustration. Even Rhys' patience was becoming short with the man. "You have asked me if I could tell you where Gareth is and I can. You then asked if I will tell you and I will. You never specified."

Eric was glaring daggers at Yorick, but he forced his voice to remain level. "Where... is... Gareth?" He asked, biting out each word. Yorick nodded his smirk still there.

"He is at the training ground. I would be willing to show you where if you require a guide."

"No," Eric snapped violently. "We'll find him ourselves." Without waiting to see what the man did, Eric stormed away. Rhys followed close behind, not sparing Yorick even a glance. The man said something as they left and Eric stiffened.

"Your temper is the reason we had to rescue you, Älfablödh." Eric took a deep breath and had to force himself to calm down as he continued to squeeze the emerald's shape into his palm. As he started walking again, Yorick said one more thing that gave Eric pause before making himself continue his fast pace away from the probably the most infuriating person he'd ever met.

Yorick's words: "You haven't even thought of that girl back in Tierm since we rescued you, haven't you? Or anyone for that matter?"

Eric hated him for saying it. But what he hated most was that Yorick was right.

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><p>Gareth was squaring off against a male elf with long white hair when Eric found him. Despite the elf's obvious advantage in speed and strength, Gareth was holding his own using the least amount of movement needed to deflect the elf's sword only a hair's breadth away from him. It appeared tiring, but Gareth merely looked bored as he continued his defense. Suddenly, the man's eyes seemed to sparkle and with a movement that Eric failed to catch, the elf had been disarmed.<p>

Lowering his blade, Gareth bowed to the elf and said a few words of thanks to him in the Ancient Language before sheathing his blade and crossing over to Eric. "Kvetha, Eric-finiarel. Atra esterní ono thelduin."

"Atra du evarínya ono varda, Gareth-elda," Eric responded annoyed that the elvish greeting needed to be answered lest he appear rude to everyone who could hear, which happened to be everyone in the training grounds. "I wish to speak with you privately."

"Of course," Gareth responded, sobering at the serious expression on Eric's face. Eric felt a presence brush his mind and he instantly tried blocking it. The opposing mind however, did not wish to be stopped and soon Gareth's voice was in his mind. _I have been preparing for this moment. And should be able to satisfy you without saying what would be best learned for yourself. But we best go where we do not risk being overheard._

Motioning for Eric and Rhys to follow him, Gareth began walking away from Ellesméra.

Eric sat on a log while Gareth took his place on a stump. Just as he opened his mouth, Eric noticed a muscle twitch in the man's face out of irritation. He made a motion as if swatting a fly away and finally Gareth relaxed. "Yorick does not understand you the way I do. If you do not learn of some things you will do something that get get you killed. Such as running off to Vroengard without training or knowing what you're up against."

Eric flushed at Gareth's amused smile. "For this to work, I am going to convince myself that you already know everything I shall reveal. That will circumvent my oath and answer your questions. I merely ask that you hold your questions until I'm finished." Eric nodded. "Now as you know I am a part of a declining people. Each generation is weaker than the last. Magic is difficult for us to control and often times eludes our grasp. Ever since our ancestors did the world the greatest favor that any one race apart from the dragons has managed." His eye sparkled again and he held out his hand, palm up. "Brisingr." With that word, Gareth's palm caught fire, though the man gave no indication that it burned him.

"We bound magic to our native tongue." Eric's eyes widened, but he refrained from speaking as Gareth continued. "It had many unintended side effects on my people. First, as I said before, the spell was so great that it made magic harder for us to control." As if to prove his point, the flame flickered weakly and then vanished, leaving Gareth appearing frustrated. "Second, it sterilized every male of our race. The flaw with this is that our race does not have many children normally and this doomed us to thinning our blood among the other races as we strove to keep from dying out. Even with our blood thinned, only our females can succeed in the creation of new generations."

Eric gave the man a sad smile. He didn't doubt that Gareth's people suffered greatly because of what they did. "Third, it drove many of my kind insane. And finally, as what happened to the elves when the Riders were formed, our lives were extended. We still die from age, but some of us have lived for many thousands of years.

"My race was very secretive and when our mothers revealed what we were and what that entailed, the males would often leave and seek knowledge, knowing we would never be able to do anything else useful for he peoples of Alagaësia." Gareth sighed. "Then you discovered us. I was a part of a research group going to search Vroengard and to study the effects of lingering magic on an area. We never made it."

Gareth seemed to struggle for words before he opened his mouth and continued. "Du Vrangr Gata has been losing power as more and more magicians realize that they can take what they want. We happened across one such man and, despite my group's number, magic refused to serve us. We fought and all but myself and Vren were killed before you literally stumbled in." Gareth's smile was serene as he seemed to relive the memory. "You tricked the magician before unleashing a spell that slipped under the wards the man had placed on himself and his guards. I do not know how you discovered who were we, but somehow you did, and accompanied us back to our home, some long abandoned monastery when we happened upon it. With only three of us, we could not continue on our journey to the old home of the Shur'tugalar. With us, you learned, though your power was already great. This was after your family's demise and you did not spend much time with us, only a few years of your own extensive life."

"Did your people have a name?" Eric asked, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to ask questions yet. Gareth ignored his mistake and nodded.

"Our own name has been lost for many generations. Not even the oldest of my people knows it. But the elves have made mention of us as the 'Grey Folk'."

_How many others know this? This knowledge is dangerous as your language has power._ Rhys commented, his head moving to lay across Eric's lap in an attempt to get him to scratch the dragon's scales.

"True, it can be dangerous," Gareth agreed. "As far as I know only you knew who we truly were. Though I believe Arya and Eragon have guessed as much. We are a secretive race, more so now than we once were. Our tongue has survived well through us, though some words have been lost, we often travel far to collect them before one who would use them for evil does. There have been many times we have failed and these words have never ceased to wreak havoc. The Riders knew of us and so I fear that our race is responsible for Galbatorix gaining so much power as we often worked in tandem with them and gave them our libraries for more secure protection. We have not made that mistake again." Something dark flashed behind the man's eyes and Eric shivered. "We know what magic is capable of and so many of us do not mourn our decline in that regard."

Eric gazed down at Rhys. "Aye, I'm starting to understand the dangers of it too." With a sigh, Eric thought back to the human runes on his sword. "Do you know why I placed the words on Rekfeigr?" He asked, looking back up at Gareth.

"Yes," he answered. "At first you named your blade to avenge your family. It wasn't until some time after you had left us that you returned to the monastery, injured and exhausted. I will not tell you why you decided to use the human tongue. But I will tell you that you left something behind, for me to guard. It is still at the monastery and under a great deal of protection. When you are trained, we shall return there and your quest may be renewed in full. Until then," Gareth stood, stretched, and finally drew his sword, "Guard your blade using the words 'gëuloth du knífr' and let's have a bout. If you learn at the same pitiful rate you did on our way here, you will need to wait decades before you are ready."

Rhys let Eric follow Gareth's instructions and prepare his sword. As soon as he was ready, Eric was forced to defend himself from a well placed thrust that would have killed even a shade had Eric not managed to dodge it by turning.

Gareth was relentless and Eric soon had a nasty bruise high on his inner thigh as the man flipped his hold on his sword and moved his wrist so that the blade was practically laying flat against his arm. The movement may have seemed like it would be weak, but Eric was quickly surprised to find that he could not put all of his weight on his bruised leg.

Eric took his chance to attempt a two-handed slash at Gareth's hip, but was blocked as the man's other hand also wrapped around the end of his sword's hilt to stabilize the block before Gareth let go of his sword with his right hand and threw Eric's arms and blade wide with a circular motion while wielding his sword in his left hand.

If Eric hadn't realized it before, he definitely noticed that Gareth had mastered swordplay with both hands.

One touch to Eric's ribs and another to his sword arm only served to convince Eric just how outclassed he was. Even Murtagh's guard had slipped on occasion. But every chance Eric took to attack ended in failure and frustration.

When Eric overextended himself in a thrust, he suddenly found himself on his stomach and Gareth's foot planted on his back.

"Dead," the man stated before letting Eric stand. "Again."

As the two clashed this time, Eric tried mainly defending, waiting for openings to appear. None did and Eric earned a new set of bruises to match the ones he'd received from the bout before before Gareth sent Rekfeigr flying and lightly tapped Eric on the neck, pronouncing him dead once more.

The third time was no different, though Eric did chance a few attacks. Gareth stayed silent for the most part and it wasn't until the fifth time that Eric realized that the man who'd always been so helpful before was testing the limits of his skill. An idea came to Eric and he knew that the worst that would happen was another bruise.

As Gareth's sword moved to disarm him, Eric dropped his arm and jumped back, narrowly missing the tip of the blade. Blocking the next attack, Eric grabbed for his magic. "Jierda!" There was a snapping sound and Gareth winced as the wrist of his current sword arm suddenly broke. Eric intended to ram his shoulder into the man next, but he never got the chance.

A loud _bang_ sounded and Eric was thrown from his feet, flying backwards several yards before landing painfully on the ground.

Eric groaned as he attempted to sit up. "Next time, do not use a spell when dueling someone who might be an enemy magician unless you have broken into their mind and can anticipate their reaction. Many magicians have died forgetting that very lesson. You should not make that mistake. You also over commit your attacks and that makes you easily predictable and opens you to counters. In sword training, pain and experience are the best motivators and so we shall practice twice daily until I feel you capable enough to handle yourself against most opponents. Morning practice shall be done using your right hand and in the evenings, you will fight with only your left." Eric groaned again, this time at the thought of how much pain he'd be in. "You cannot afford to become unbalanced in your muscle development. If in battle your right arm were to become useless, would you rather fight with a trained left hand or realize your folly in having focused solely on your right.

Gareth picked up Rekfeigr and muttered for a moment before helping Eric to his feet. I have removed the guards on your sword. Rest tonight, and meet me at the training area at dawn. If you do not show, I shall remind you." Giving Eric a sad smile he added, "I am still your friend, Eric. But now I must also be your teacher. You must learn to obey if you wish to learn quickly."

Eric nodded and turned to leave. As he left Gareth said one more thing.

"Oh and from now on, speak in only the Ancient Language. It will sharpen your mind and ready you to learn more of magic."


	7. Author's Note 2: Reviews and Responses

**We interrupt this fanfiction to bring you this Author's Note.**

Okay so I've gotten 2 reviews and I found myself depressed by the fact that I couldn't respond to them. So my solution is simple. When I get enough reviews with questions I feel I will answer out of the story because they don't really affect the plot and are just my thoughts at that particular moment, I'll write one of these up. Partially because I have nothing better to do (3000 words doesn't take me quite so long to write when I'm not playing around on Youtube, Facebook, or reading manga). It also gives me time to think without making me too bored.

So the both reviews are from "cookie". Thank you, cookie, for your time and words. I'll post you reviews here for people to see and my responses along with them.

**Review #1:**

No feedbacks yet? Well, then I guess I'm the first one^^

I really enjoyed your work so far - it totally got me hooked.

What's that with Eric? How come no dragon has hatched for him in the past but now? Why was he in Alagaesia when he kind of knew he could perhaps never return to the Dragon Rider's home? (sorry, the name slipped my mind) I like how you still leave us in the dark about so many things. It's exactly this obscurity which keeps me invested.

*thumbs up*! :)

**My Response: **_Eric never became a Rider before because when he was of a proper age to be chosen, no dragon chose him. No one can guess at the mind of a dragon when they choose their Riders. All they can do is accept it. Needless to say that Eric and his family tried countless times, before Eric finally accepted that he wouldn't be a Rider. As for why he was in Alagaesia and not Ynys Skulblaka, the answer is simple. Eric and his family (the descendents of Eragon and Arya) lived in Alagaesia. They functioned like the Riders, living mainly among the humans, who trusted them more than the Riders due to their more human abilities and appearances (you see the problem with human intolerance a lot in the books, especially Inheritance)._

_An event happen in Eric's past, however, that resulted in the death of his entire family, except for himself (Eragon, Arya, and Murtagh - along with any family I come up with for him - obviously survived. The event targeted only Eric's non-Rider family). This event caused Eric to be taken in at the Rider's new home, where he lived and learned. He grew close to Eragon during this time, but eventually saw need to return to Alagaesia and his family's duty._

_You'll learn more about Arya's life (such as her status as queen and where she lives) as more is revealed. As for Eragon's movements... well, the funny thing about his prophecy which Eragon didn't think of at the end of Inheritance is that it never said WHEN he'd leave. It just said he would leave and never return. That simply means he will one day die when not in Alagaesia._

**Review #2:**

Oh wow, am I still the only one?

Well, your story's getting better and better. Your way of writing's pretty good and detailed without being too long-winded - I like that.

And then there is the storyline itself..still mysterious and suspensful. By the way, I don't feel like you've revealed too much already (or I'm just really bad at catching hints^^).

Anyways, I hope his journey won't end at Vroengard. I'm sure it's only the beginning but then again I believe you'll do a great job in developping the plot.

**My Response:** _Ever since I posed that very question to myself, I've been thinking about where the plot would end. When I actually took the time to do so and didn't let myself get distracted (oh look! A chicken!) then I realized that Vroengard was going to be just a part of the bigger conflict. Reading other people's ideas and going through the information Paolini gave during the books (history rules by the way... so many things can come back to haunt you), I've started thinking more on the form the conflict would take. Obviously it has to be powerful enough to merit the deaths of Eric's family. The reason I say that is because, with each generation, Eric's family became more human (when you spend all your time around them, you have a tendency to fall in love sometimes). So by this logic, Eric has very little elven blood in him. In fact, I see him as a bit of an oddity. His mother barely even possessed the slanted eyes. She was a beautiful woman, but you would have needed to really look to see her elven heritage. For Eric to look as he does, he really has to be dipping into the recessive gene pool. In fact, I kind of envisioned him how I feel Eragon and Arya's child would appear (that was originally going to be the scheme)._

_There's more to Eric's heritage than just Eragon and Arya, though, which is why the dormant recessive genes were able to appear. But I'll refrain from saying more until I reveal that secret in the story._

So there you have it. If you have questions regarding my logic, simply ask and you might receive if it doesn't reveal too much of what I've got planned. If it would reveal too much, I might just skip over the question or answer in such a way so as to purposely confuse you (I've been known to do that).

Oh and when I upload these, I'll always post a new chapter before it too (in case I accidentally do reveal something that would appear in the chapter anyway), so you needn't worry about getting your hopes up too much and then having them utterly crushed.

I'm also not going to beg for reviews, but I shall ask with every chapter to let you know that I care about what you think.

**We will now return to your regular broadcast. Until next time, sé onr sverdar sitja hvass.**


	8. Chapter 5: Love and Training

**A/N: **If you didn't like what I did with responding to the reviews earlier, just let me now and I won't do another and will find another way, because I feel the responses are obligatory.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle _or any other literary works.

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><p><strong>Chapter Five – Love and Training<strong>

Eric limped from sword practice in a foul mood. Gareth was only doing as he'd promised, but the bruises were making it harder to move in the ways he needed. His right hand had lost all feeling halfway through and Gareth had allowed Eric to heal only that before beginning again.

And Eric still had another practice that night with his left hand. Groaning unintentionally, he followed his connection with Rhys and watched most of his partner's lesson, before withdrawing silently. Despite Gareth's instructions to speak only in the Ancient Language, Eric didn't feel like speaking at all. He'd hardly said fifty words this entire morning... and most of those were the greeting the elves used!

Because of his silence, Eric found that he had time to think. But each time he did, Yorick's words always surface eventually.

_I really haven't thought of Sara,_ Eric thought. _She has to be worried. It's been weeks since I was taken and she hasn't heard from me at all. Mother and father will be okay, they always told me that they believed something would happen eventually and that I should visit them every so often if I'm able. But Sara..._ Eric sighed and pushed his thoughts away. But soon a new concern surfaced. Had there been anyone he loved in his life before? If so, what where was she and what was she like?

The feeling of being watched returned to Eric again and he knew that it was likely just one of the elves or the Grey Folk. He knew that Yorick, Gareth, and the others weren't true Grey Folk, being their descendents, but that was what Gareth said they called themselves and so the name stuck in Eric's mind.

He continued walking as the prickling feeling on his neck continued. It would go away eventually. All the elves merely wanted to catch a glimpse of the person who willingly gave up his identity for theirs and the Riders' sakes. As Eric reached his tree house, he chanced a look out of the corner of his eye to check if he could see who was watching him.

He did and what he saw took his breath away. She was an elf. But not just any elf. If Arya was beautiful, then this elf was a goddess. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her raven hair. But what really caught him was her piecing blue eyes. He knew that her hair and eye colors didn't occur naturally often, if at all. She was only a tad shorter than Arya and her features had a more otherworldly appearance, being more angular and slanted than practically any other elf Eric had met or seen.

She stared at him with a saddened look on her face and Eric realized that if he had possessed a love interest, this elf was likely it.

Flushing, Eric hurried up the stairs, hoping that she hadn't realized that he'd seen her.

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><p>"Focus, Eric-finiarel," Arya admonished in the Ancient Language as he was forced to cross out yet another glyph of the Liduen Kvaedhí, the Poetic Script. "You need to concentrate on your studies now." Eric said nothing as he rewrote the glyph he'd made an error on, this time forming its curved and oddly shaped lines perfectly.<p>

He couldn't help but think though. The glyphs may be difficult to him, but his mind preferred to wander when it stayed locked on a single task for too long. A few minutes later, he completed the list of words Arya had assigned him. Handing the paper to her, he watched as she looked it over with a critical eye.

"It is a start," she said finally, setting the list down on the desk. "Come. As we eat, I wish for you to tell me what has caught your attention so." Eric nodded and followed her to a table that occupied the main living area of the tree house. Silently, he ate, wanting to postpone the discussion he knew was coming.

"Eric?" Arya asked as he ate a bite of the cooked mushrooms they'd been given for dinner. Swallowing, Eric sighed.

"Yorick brought it to my attention some time ago that I haven't thought at all about a girl back in Tierm who I had promised to marry since I was found," he said finally in a depressed tone. He lapsed into silence again and continued to eat, while Arya studied him.

"Is that all?"

Another moment of silence. "It made me also wonder about the friends I left behind when I cast that spell. I don't know who I spent time with, who I talked to, who I loved, who I hated. It seems as if some of the elves think I might return to whatever expectations they had of me before. I can feel them watching me, sometimes even following me as I walk." He lifted his face and looked at Arya. "What was I like that seems so different now?"

She gave him a sad smile. "You were similar to both Eragon and me, if one really had to describe your personality. Strong and independent. Caring and full of empathy. Passionate, yet controlled. You were a lot of things, most of them contradictions. You had Eragon's trait of never-ending questions. You loved knowledge and the uses of it. You possessed cunning and wisdom in no small amount. Courage and bravery that often seemed suicidal." She smiled again, this time it was happier. "You grew up here in Ellesméra around three other children. You know how rare my race propagates. You and the other children grew close. It was no surprise when you and Ástirí decided to become mates." Eric felt his heart pounding in his chest. Could it be? "I assume that she is one of the ones who has been watching you."

"What does she look like?" Arya thought for a moment but shook her head.

"You created a fairth of her. Your focus at first was much like Eragon's when he was training under Oromis. Unlike me, Ástirí was happy you saw her in such a light. I believe you gave the first to her. The second you kept. That one caught your mate in a more honest light. It still held your feelings for her, but they no longer overwhelmed the image." She cocked her head at him. "Why are you so curious?"

"I might have seen her today," he answered. "Where's the fairth then?"

"Where ever it is, you will likely find it. From what little you've told me, I assume you had left yourself clues should this have happened?" Eric nodded. "Good, now finish eating. We still have time before you must be at the training area."

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><p>Eric's fingers went numb as Gareth rapped them with the flat of his sword. "Still too tense. Relax, let your instincts move for you, but take caution to not be careless." Eric took a deep breath at the small break and switched sword hands to stretch his stiff fingers. "You also continue to overextend, but not to the degree you did in the beginning."<p>

Gareth's instruction was getting more painful with each bout. To rub salt to his wounded pride, Eric couldn't help but notice the watching elves. He knew just as well as they did that Riders were supposed to be stronger than Eric currently was, though they also pitied his handicap. To top it off, Eric had no idea how quickly his strength would grow.

"Again." Eric was brought back to reality by a bruising pain just below his ribs. Deflecting Gareth's next strike, Eric attempted the same movement that Gareth had used to give Eric his still stinging fingers.

His reward was Gareth spinning his blade around Rekfeigr and knocking the sword from Eric's hand. "Do not attempt something new in battle unless you know you are capable of a followup. Now, again."

Just as Eric stood after retrieving Rekfeigr, he saw the same elf woman who'd been following him earlier. Their eyes met and Eric knew without a doubt that if she wasn't Ástirí, then she'd been one of the other children he'd grown up around. Breaking his gaze away, Eric turned slowly. He was going to find Ástirí, then he needed to focus on his training and improve quickly so he would have the time and ability to return to his past if he could.

Still conscious of the woman's gaze on him, Eric watched Gareth carefully, looking for any holes. Though he was sure he had none, Eric still made it a habit. Gareth struck first as had become custom, his sword moving to hit Eric's left knee. If the woman was indeed Ástirí, Eric did not want to make her think he was helpless. Eric blocked the attack, stepping with his right leg as he did so. The next part was tricky, but Eric couldn't afford to stop moving and let Gareth prepare or counter.

Pivoting on his right foot, Eric continued to block Gareth's sword as he reached down and found that he'd succeeded in grabbing the man's wrist. Continuing with the pivot, Eric pulled his sword arm away and threw his elbow behind him as his back became exposed to the man.

The attack itself missed, but Eric could tell that Gareth approved of the sudden change, even if it was risky. Eric didn't have any time at all to think as a hard blow slammed into his lower back, sending him sprawling as he lost his balance. Eric stood up and brought the tip of his sword to point at Gareth, expecting another attack.

"Enough," Gareth told him. "We're done for the day. Be ready at dawn." Eric nodded and removed the guards on Rekfeigr before sheathing the blade. "Next time you attempt something like that, Eric, follow through. If you miss, turn with it and attack with your sword. Well done though for catching me off guard." Shock rippled through Eric at Gareth's confession. "Now I believe that there is someone who is waiting to see you." He looked over at the woman and nodded in acknowledgment. "Don't be too long," he advised. "Dawn comes early and Arya may still have lessons for you."

Eric stood there for a moment as Gareth strode away. The other elves were leaving too. Except for the woman. She simply stayed where she was and waited for Eric to stop in front of her. Eric's limbs felt sluggish as he moved closer but finally they were within an arm's length of each other.

"May good fortune rule over you, Eric-vor." Her voice rang inside Eric's head much like Sara's had, but the feeling was different. He felt as if he were drowning.

"May the stars watch over you," he responded politely. "Ástirí?" Her smile was confirmation enough. "It's been difficult, having to learn about myself. Not that anyone's been uncooperative, but rather knowing that I will never remember an entire life before the one I know." His smile for her was full of sorrow. "I'm sorry that I-" He was stopped as Ástirí put a finger against his lips.

"Will you walk with me?" Falling in beside her, Eric forced his breathing to stay calm. "Tell me of your new life," Ástirí said after a while when they passed by a rather beautiful garden of roses.

And so Eric told her. He told her of his parents and they day they had found him. He told her of Tierm and the inn he had helped his parents run. He told her of his interest in history, stories, and the arts and how he had turned that into entertainment for the inn's patrons. Finally he told her of Sara. Ástirí said nothing during his explanation. When Eric finally finished she said nothing for moment as she bent over and admired a particularly beautiful white rose.

"Do you still love her?" The question didn't catch Eric off guard, but he was still at a loss of what to say.

"She's the one I believed I love. But I cannot let my forgotten past go either. You do not deserve to be treated like that, but it's..." Eric struggled for a moment, looking for the correct words. "It's complicated." Ástirí nodded in understanding.

"If you are not comfortable, I am willing to wait. If you no longer feel as you did, I can take solace in the fact that you are no longer the same as I remember." A large shadow passed by overhead, breaking the heaviness of the moment. Looking up, both Eric and Ástirí were surprised to see Rhys circling around to land beside them.

Once on the ground, the emerald green dragon peered at Ástirí. _So you are the one Eric has been troubled over,_ he rumbled finally. _Well met, Ástirí._

"Well met, Rhys." The dragon turned it's head so that Eric was now looking into one of his eyes. Rhys had grown much since their arrival in Ellesméra. He was now large enough to ride, but carrying much more weight than Eric was still difficult.

_You are truly strange, my Rider._ _But come, Arya has asked for our presence._

Apologizing to Ástirí, Eric bid her farewell and climbed onto the hollow where his neck met his shoulders and waved goodbye to Ástirí one last time before Rhys pushed off from the ground and became airborne with a few flaps of his large wings.

_What are your thoughts, Rhys? _Eric asked after a moment.

_My thoughts are that you are still confused. You had best put romance off until you know yourself more fully._ Because the dragon spoke in the Ancient Language, Eric knew that he hadn't lied. The words hurt, but he'd learned to trust Rhys' opinion after Arya had explained the Dragon Rider bond in further detail. They had also stopped hiding things from each other, attempting to become one of heart and mind and in doing so learned more of the other. They reveled in each others' presence for a moment more before becoming once more two distinct individuals.

* * *

><p>Eric had only been to the Crags of Tel'naeír twice since his training began. Both times had been to study with the dragons. This time, Eric didn't know what to expect, since it had been Arya who had called him.<p>

As they near the hut that sat a few miles north of the rocky bluffs, Eric saw Fírnen and Thorn lying stretched out on the grass. Rhys landed easily and Eric greeted the dragons with his mind and they responded in turn before instructing him to go inside the hut. Calmly, Eric did as instructed, wondering what Murtagh and Arya wanted with him.

He saw them standing around the table, talking to a third person, who was obscured from view by Murtagh's body. None of them gave any indication that they had seen Eric arrive.

"-realize that Du Weldenvarden is protected, Arya," the unknown man said in the human tongue. "But it just isn't possible. Enough has been said on this topic. If it makes it easier, I can begin construction of a new outpost, but Ynys Skulblaka is the best place for the Riders' ho-" He stopped suddenly and everyone in the room turned to look at Eric.

"I came as instructed," Eric announced quietly in the Ancient Language. Murtagh moved to allow Eric to join them at the table, giving Eric a fell view of the man he didn't know. His features were too exotic to be human, but too broad to be an elf. To Eric's eyes, the man appeared to be something in between. He had brown hair and his eyes were the same.

"Welcome, Eric," the man said, touching two fingers to his lips. Eric repeated the gesture and looked down at the documents littering the wooden furniture between them. Some appeared to be reports from writer's others looked like official requests in one form or another. Eric turned his attention back to look at the man and realized where he recognized his description from.

He was seeing Eragon Kingkiller, the head of the Dragon Riders.

"I'm told your training goes well?" Eric nodded, unsure of how to act towards not only his ancestor, but also the head of Eric's order.

"Yes." Eric stammered, making him have to restart the simple word many times before it finally was said correctly. Eragon nodded.

"Good." Turning back to Arya and Murtagh, he pointed at two different places on a well drawn map. "I've sent Riders here and here to look into the source of the disturbances. Five caravans being completely slaughtered is far enough, any more and villages won't have enough supplies. To make matters worse, the urgals blame humans for the attacks here," he pointed to a different location. "The games are too important to the urgals now for them to be interrupted in such a manner. Murtagh, I'm trusting you and Nurzhan to look into this. Report once you find out the source and don't take unnecessary risks." Murtagh nodded in acceptance.

"I'll contact Nurzhan and set up a location to meet then," he replied.

Eragon didn't say anymore on the topic. "Arya, you and I are going to teach Eric. I understand he's already got a fine instructor for the sword, but since I'll be staying in Alagaësia for a time, I'll join you in your task." That said, Eragon turned to look at Eric and studied him. It wasn't long before Eric felt a pressure against his mind and he hardened his defenses by focusing on Ástirí's image in his mind. The Rider testing him appeared amused, but the contact receded. "I'll focus more on the magic side of things while Arya teaches you words."

His expression turned even more serious. "You found something Eric and refused to tell anyone. For that we must train you harder than even I was trained. You will likely wish to quit. When you do, remember what all of this is for. Remember your duty as a Rider and you'll be fine." Eric took a deep breath and finally nodded.

"Good, now let's begin."

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><p><strong>AN:** GAH! I hate Writer's Block! I hates it! I hates it! I HATES IT! *breathes deeply and regains some self-control* You almost didn't get a chapter because I got stuck. You also almost didn't get a chapter because I was forced to get up earlier than usual and play chauffeur for most of the morning. Driving taxes my mind and eyes (once again: thank you, short attention span and bad vision!), so I had to take a nap and get away from my laptop for a while.

But all's back to normal now. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, despite my struggles with it. Review if you desire.


	9. Chapter 6: Heritage

**A/N:** Yeesh, talk about an eventful night. Was asked to help give a priesthood blessing a few hours after I fell asleep. An hour later, I get woken up again because the smoke alarms decided to go off for no reason. When they turned off, I had already dismantled the one in my room and had to spend the next ten minutes in a half-awake state trying to put it back. But I'm awake now, chores that I normally don't do are either done or getting there.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle _or any other literary works.

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><p><strong>Chapter Six - Heritage<strong>

The wind blew through Eric's black hair as he closed his eyes and let the sensations of riding Rhys take over his senses. He was given this time each day to do what he wished. Normally he talked with Ástirí or continued to study some of the scrolls he was given to read. But today... today he had decided to ride Rhys and let his worries get left behind.

It hadn't taken Eric long to become accustomed to the little sleep he was given now. But he was still getting used to the intensity of his training. Gareth had already been hard on him, but Arya had started giving Eric time limits to his writing or particularly difficult passages of the Ancient Language to memorize in small amounts of time before he had to repeat the challenging sounds out loud without making any mistakes.

Eragon's training was the worst, however. His ancestor taught him the rules of magic first. The spells Eric practiced weren't easy in the slightest and they left him feeling drained and looking forward to his other lessons. To train his mind, Eric was forced to meditate in a clearing with his thoughts open, listening to the world around him.

That exercise was the most frustrating of all, even though Eric had thought it would be simple. Every time Eric thought he was finished, Eragon pointed out one or more things he missed.

But in a few short weeks, Eric had progressed in his training. Magic had become much less of a struggle and more of how to use as few words as possible in a spell. He could debate logically with Arya and converse with her on the various sciences he'd covered in his studies. He was even finally starting to get the hang of sword fighting, though he still left with far more bruises than Gareth.

_What do you think, Rhys?_ Eric asked through their bond.

_About?_

_Anything, everything._

_Hmm..._ The emerald dragon mused. _I am wondering about the danger that we are meant to face. What could we possibly do that three Riders with five centuries of experience couldn't?_

_I don't know._ Eric laughed at the absurdity of what was expected of him._ But Eragon has a point: we know that I found something. What confuses me is that I never shared it._

_Perhaps Rekfeigr can reveal something new,_ Rhys offered._ We know enchantments are sung into the blade, but what of the sheath?_ _It is unique and must have some secret. _Eric had to admit that his dragon was likely onto something.

_Perhaps. I shall ask Rhunön someday. But for now I have other obligations, _Eric said as Rhys began to circle back to Ellesméra to let Eric prepare for the day's lesson with Arya.

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><p>Eric's sword darted forward and with a flick of his wrist, he knocked aside Gareth's defense. The movement was too much though and instead of scoring a direct hit, Rekfeigr's guarded edge merely slid along the man's ribs. Gareth recovered before Eric and a sharp pain along his bicep brought a grunt from the Rider's throat. Lashing out with his leg, Eric caught the inside of Gareth's knee and the smile faded instantly from the man's face as his balance suddenly shifted, the support of his lead leg gone.<p>

Eric didn't waste any time as he batted aside Gareth's next attack and touch the tip of his sword to his neck. "Dead," Eric stated.

"Dead," Gareth agreed. Relief flooded Eric as he realized that he'd finally beaten the man. His joy was short lived, however when Gareth said, "Good, now... Again."

This time Eric lost so badly that he knew Gareth had been holding back to allow Eric the chance to improve. The loss was humbling enough that the next bout Eric was a more careful in watching Gareth's movements before, using mainly counterattacks to score hits and focusing on defense the rest of the time.

All the while, Eric was fully aware of Ástirí's gaze from where she stood with the other elves.

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><p>"Water," Eric muttered as the orb of liquid rocketed towards him. It stopped an inch from his fingertips and Eric continued the spell as Eragon had him manipulate the shape of the water among various other tasks. It wouldn't have been so difficult except the point of the exercise was to manage it using only a single word each time. There were times when Eric's concentration slipped and the shape turned out differently than instructed, but Eric was glad nothing dangerous occurred.<p>

"Good," Eragon praised. "Now defend yourself. Flame." Eric barely had time to say a word to form the water into a barrier as a thin beam of blue fire shot from Eragon's palm. The water stopped it, but only barely. Eric glared at Eragon. Was his ancestor trying to kill him?

Just as Eric was about to retaliate, a spear of thought attacked his mind. Throwing up his barriers, Eric lost control of his spell keep the water in the air and it splashed against the ground. "Some magicians may not wait to take over your mind before using magic to kill you. Or they may cast a spell as a last resort if you break into their mind. You need to learn defenses against spells that your wards don't prevent," Eragon instructed as the spear vanished. "You must be able to defend yourself both mentally and physically."

Eric nodded as he calmed his mind and banished his building headache with a spell. "I'm ready to begin again." Eragon lifted another orb of water from the stream next to them and Eric decided that instead of stopping it as he had before, to redirect the energy used to give it movement instead. "Circle." The ball moved around his body at the same speed Eragon had sent it with until his next word. "Follow." Then the water shot back at Eragon even faster than Eric had expected.

Eragon just reached out with his hand and, without a word, caught it effortlessly. "Most Riders keep stopping the orb for a time until they realize they can do what you just accomplished."

They continued like that for a while, Eric responding to various spells Eragon used against him while occasionally having his mind assaulted with the force of a battering ram.

* * *

><p>"The games the urgals use to prove their worth are useless," Arya said in the human language, proving that she didn't really believe so.<p>

"The games are one of the few things that keep up peaceful relations between the urgals and the other races," Eric answered, using the Ancient Language. Arya gave him no choice in that matter. She said that he had to be able to know the truth of his arguments for them to be more effective. "By having participation be voluntary, any who wish to test their strength is at fault if they fail to survive. Urgal culture is based around combat. It is impossible to change such nature completely and so the games were created to minimize the potential damage."

"The urgals could be completely wiped out," Arya countered. Even though he knew she really didn't think that way, Eric still was appalled at her words.

"If we did we would be no different than Galbatorix or any other tyrant. Where would the bloodshed end? If we destroyed the urgals, we would have to purge our own ranks of them as well. If we managed to complete such an atrocious act, the other races would fear us and we would become arrogant in our own power. Using that power, we could subdue the other races of Alagaësia and rule them. That is not what our order is meant for." Arya's eyes sparkled in approval. "If we were to focus on ruling the other races we could become blind to potentially larger threats as we deal with those capable of being handled by each race."

"We could create a group to investigate claims and to look into such threats."

Eric shook his head. "Dragon Riders aren't invincible. If all of Alagaësia's races joined forces, we might succeed in quelling a rebellion, but not without severe losses. The same is true of such a group. They could be ambushed while investigating such threats. Without immediate attention, we would have such an uprising. No it is best we do not attempt to rule. And the temptation to do so will be strong if we start by eradicating the urgals, which we would be forced to do if we ended the games."

Arya nodded and switched back to the Ancient Language. "Good enough. Your arguments began to get weak at the ending but the logic is sound enough. Now eat and rest for an hour. Then return to the training area for sparring practice." Eric thanked her before leaving the tree house. Rhys didn't join him, but rather pushed his way into Eric's thoughts.

_Where are you going?_

_I asked Ástirí to help me learn about my past. So I'm eating with her and the other two elves I grew up with._ Feeling Rhys' approval, Eric hummed a tune his mother would sing to him when he was younger. He looked forward to meeting Aneirin and Kieron.

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><p>The screen door to Ástirí's home opened before Eric could even knock and he was pulled in by an enthusiastic white haired elf with twinkling blue eyes. Eric silently followed, smiling slightly though he was feeling a little uncomfortable. Once the elf released him, he turned and touched two fingers to his lips. "May good fortune rule over you, Eric Shur'tugal. I am Kieron."<p>

"May the stars watch over you, Kieron-vodhr." Eric's voice apparently drew the other two elves and he gave a small smile at Ástirí before greeting Aneirin. Eric had been told that Aneirin had changed his body to match what he saw as beauty, but Eric was still taken aback by the cat-like appearance the elf wore. His body was covered entirely in gray fur and he wore only a loincloth. Whisker adorned his cheeks a few inches to either side of his nose. When he smiled, Eric even noticed that his teeth were pointed just as a cat's would be.

Aneirin noticed Eric's stare and laughed. "It was you who gave me the idea, Eric Shur'tugal." Eric's smiled deepened sincerely as he thought about it. Trying to look past the elf's features into what he might have been before, Eric realized that the change was what matched him perfectly.

As they sat around the table, Eric started answering questions about how his training went and his well-being. Never once was the fact that he did not remember them arise and Eric was silently grateful.

"It is good that Rhys hatched for you. Your parents were disheartened when no dragon chose you before. Everyone had assumed you would become a Rider," Keiron told him after the subject changed and they asked about Eric's dragon. Eric stiffened. He had guessed that he'd been tested to become a Rider before, but it was never confirmed until now. "Still, you are the first in your family since Eragon and Ayra."

"Do you know what made me so different?" Eric asked the first question that came to mind. "Why did anyone think I might become a Rider when no dragon chose any of my family?"

Keiron looked at Aneirin and Ástirí and each nodded. "It was because of your father. Your mother was descended from Arya and Eragon. It was your father's heritage that seemed to bring us all the hope." Eric realized than that he hadn't actually known who his parents _were_. He knew that one of them linked him to the Riders, but what of the other. The one who was now revealed to be Eric's father.

"What was so different about him then?" Aneirin and the others were silent for a moment.

"Through your father, you are the only heir of the first Dragon Rider, Eragon. Many Riders followed and your blood became more and more human, but the traits of our people never fully left. With the Fall, we were told our people thought your father's line to be lost completely. After the Riders were restored, your mother's family discovered your father and their union resulted in you."

"How did anyone know who my father was though?" Eric asked. "If the elves thought that Eragon's line had been destroyed, how did they recognize him?"

Aneirin smiled. "We aren't sure when or how, but the elven traits began to resurface. It wasn't inherently obvious, but the signs were there nonetheless. The Riders investigated and it was discovered that their suspicions were correct."

"But enough of this talk," Keiron interrupted and he changed the subject to some exploit of the past. Eric, however, pondered deeply what he'd just uncovered.

He had the blood of Dragon Riders running through his veins. And Eric was meant to carry on that heritage.

* * *

><p>Eric bowed to Gareth after sword practice and climbed onto Rhys. He'd shared what he'd been told on the flight to the training area, but now he and Rhys were silent. The weight on Eric's shoulders felt heavier but he was happy as well. He was happy because he had had fun with Keiron and Aneirin. Ástirí he was cautious of because of their relationship in the past. Eric could tell she was waiting to see if it was to be once again, but both were apprehensive since Eric was obviously not quite the same man he'd been before.<p>

* * *

><p>Eric arrived at the tree house and glanced around again with new eyes. Subtle reminders of what the house had been formed from the tree for were everywhere. Searching through the desk in the study, Eric found what he had been looking for. Drawings and sketches that looked far older than Eric was willing to guess the age of. Going through each of them, Eric stared at the various scenes and people he'd looked over before.<p>

Now that he really had a chance to see them, Eric realized that one drawing was of Tierm. Another depicted a proud looking elf, his chin narrow and nose hooked. Eric studied the drawing and smiled, wondering who the elf was. Looking at the back of the paper, Eric's breath caught as he read the few lines of glyphs written on the back.

The words named the elf, Eragon. The same one who Eric had found out only hours before to be his ancestor. Eric's shock subsided after a moment and he smiled. As he set the illustration on the desk before headin down the stairs to sleep.

He may not remember anything from his life But he was happy about what he'd been told. He was happy that his childhood daydreams about his real family, while still foolish, hadn't been completely destroyed. Before Eric drifted off to sleep, he vowed to live up to his heritage as much as possible.

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><p><strong>AN: **Short chapter. You can blame Writer's Block. But as I alluded to in my response to Cookie's review, Eric's heritage is much bigger than just Eragon and Arya. Updates may be slow for a while as I sort out my ideas for this fic, but once I have things sorted out, you can bet that this fic will be kicked back into high gear. Review please.


	10. Chapter 7: Danger

**A/N:** Okay, bear with me for a moment. As I write this, I'm organizing my thoughts in another document (when this fic is done, I may post it to let everyone see). It's organized into categories. One category is "What I Know", another is "What I Want to Happen", there's "The Evil" and "Eric, His Past, and What He Left Behind". That's what I have right now and it still doesn't make this much easier. Basically, I'm trying to organize the mystery of Eric's past and combine it with the major conflict. Everything might come to a complete circle (methinks that would be really interesting). Or Good completely triumphs once more. I've been known to plot out an entire story (with both a vague and detailed outline) only to deviate at the second bullet point from where I started writing.

So basically I'm saying that anything goes. I'm not going to do a full outline (see above for reason why), but I'm not going to walk in blind either. While, I have most everything sorted out now, there are still wrinkles in my master plan.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle_ or any other literary works.

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven – Danger<strong>

Eric felt his stomach lurch slightly as it always did when Rhys performed a roll. The emerald dragon beneath him was moving to avoid the much bigger sapphire-colored dragon hurtling towards them. In place of magic practice, Eragon had insisted instructing Eric and Rhys on aerial combat, something Eric didn't see the need for, but accepted nonetheless.

Rhys turned in the air with better agility than Saphira did, but only due to their differences in size. Rhys wasn't built quite as slender as the older dragon was.

Rhys opened his mouth and let loose a torrent of green flames, causing Eric to smile. Eragon wouldn't be harmed by that which meant that he needn't worry as Rhys stopped the blaze and shot forward at Saphira's right flank. By the time both dragon and Rider realized that Eragon and Saphira were prepared for such an attack, it was almost too late.

Blue flames burned the air and traveled towards the pair. Throwing his right hand forward, Eric plunged into his magic. "Protect!" The fire split safely on either side of them, but Eric's left arm still was brought up to defend his face against the searing heat.

A moment before the flames stopped, a spear stabbed into Eric's consciousness. Throwing up his barriers, Eric retaliated, both his mind and Rhys' savagely looking for a chink in Eragon's mental armor. They were met with disappointment and withdrew temporarily.

Before he could manage another attack, however, a stronger spike embedded itself in Eric's mind, completely breaking past his defenses after a minute of struggling.

_Good,_ Eragon's voice sounded in his head. _Training is over for today. Murtagh's back and his condition's not good. Take the rest of the day to yourself, but be ready to join us if I call for you._

_Yes, master, _was all Eric managed to say before Eragon's mind left his and Saphira began the decent towards the Crags of Tel'naeír. He wanted to ask what had happened, but it was evident by the speed Saphira was flying that it was urgent.

_Should we follow them?_ Eric asked Rhys.

_No,_ came the response. _We would merely be sent away. If it concerns us, we will know._ Eric begrudgingly agreed as Rhys flew towards Ellesméra. He didn't like being out of the loop, since he felt that way enough just being around people he'd known before, but he'd have to deal with it.

* * *

><p>Eric landed beside Rhys and stretched his legs. Just like with horses, Eric grew saddle sore if he flew with Rhys for a long enough time. Until he grew accustomed to long flights, he hoped that any battles he'd find himself in would take place after a few minutes on the ground.<p>

As he had expected Ástirí opened the screen door leading to her home and greeted Eric warmly at the entrance. Touching two fingers to his lips, Eric stepped into the dwelling as she moved aside to let him in.

"You're early," Ástirí noted, breaking the silence that had come between them for a moment.

"Something happened to Murtagh," Eric answered. "Eragon ended my training for the day, but wants me to be ready at a moment's notice to return to them." Concern flickered over Ástirí's face.

"Then it is time I must ask: what of me?" Eric's eyes ran over her features, confusion evident in his expression. "I can tell you will soon leave Ellesméra. Your training has gone on for many months. You have been here in Ellesméra for over a year. It is obvious that you are much stronger than you once were. When you leave, what will become of us?"

Eric gave her a soft smile before sighing. "If Eragon sends me from Du Weldenvarden, I would ask if you would accompany me." Joy soon replaced shock and it radiated off of Ástirí in waves. "I will need yours and Gareth's help in recovering my lost past. I have seen you with a blade and can see that it will defend you well enough."

For a moment, Ástirí seemed speechless. "Thank you, Eric-vor. I would gladly join you should you leave the forest of my people."

They spent the next hour talking of unimportant things before Eric started to feel a pressure in his thoughts. Standing from his chair, he nodded at Ástirí and began to walk away. "I'll let you know if I must leave. I'll have a few things to collect." Ástirí nodded before Eric left, sliding the screen shut behind him and began to descend down the stairs.

The pressure became more intense and Eric opened his mind to it, knowing the distance was hard for the sender to maintain. _I'm coming,_ he said mentally.

_Good, hurry. We have little time._ Eragon's voice faded from his thoughts a moment later and Eric gazed down at Rhys before jumping over the railing, not caring that he was still seventy feet or more above the ground.

With a muttered word, Eric's fall slowed and he used one of Rhys' neck spines to swing himself into the saddle. The dragon roused from his slumber instantly and Eric sent an affirmative to his questioning thoughts.

* * *

><p>Eric entered the hut and was stunned to see Murtagh's right arm in a sling and favoring the same side. Eragon's half-brother was leaning against the chair Eragon was seated in. The leader of the Riders had his eyes closed and he appeared deep in thought. Arya was standing across the table from him.<p>

"Ebrithilar, we have arrived," Eric said, before following with the appropriate gestures. Eragon opened his eyes and studied Eric carefully. The look in his gaze sent shivers down Eric's spine.

"If you were still in possession of your memories, Eric, you would have much explaining to do. A Rider is dead, his dragon with him. Murtagh spent a the past four months as a prisoner before he managed to escape. He and Thorn suffered great injury." Eragon closed his eyes again and sighed. "He has told me what he could. I know you have searched for hints about your past. Do you know anything?"

Eric shook his head. "Not much. I just know that Rekfeigr was made because whatever was on Vroengard wasn't affected by normal blades... not even the elven blade I was supposed to have been carrying."

"Zar'roc failed me as well," Murtagh replied. "I might as well have been using a limp blade of grass for all the good my attacks did. Magic was ineffective. Even the name of names had no affect." Cold ran through Eric at the words. If nothing Murtagh tried worked, what hope did Eric possess?

Eragon gazed once more at Eric for a time. Arya watched her mate in worry. Eric swallowed uncomfortably.

Finally, Eragon broke the silence. "Since the even name of names won't work, we must assume that whatever power acts on these... shadow soldiers is not bound to the Ancient Language." Eric's eyes met Eragon's and he knew instantly what would come next. "Whatever you found, Eric, we need it now. You are well enough trained to handle most threats. This one, none of us can take on without that knowledge you possessed. Be ready to depart in an hour and report to us twice daily. Meet the four Riders who will join you back here."

Eric stiffened and shook his head. "I already have companions in mind, ebrithil. One has agreed, the other will likely do so as well. If you send Riders, they may go to their deaths. And they will not be able to help me. There are those who knew me well enough to know where to look."

"Who then?" Murtagh asked skeptically. "Who would agree to something where the possibility of dying is so great?"

Eric took a deep breath to ready himself for the likely responses. "Gareth and Ástirí," he said calmly. The response wasn't anything like he expected though.

"If they both agree, then go. We cannot afford to waste time arguing while an enemy we don't know how to harm walks Alagaësia," Eragon told him. "We'll send the Riders to search for you if you don't contact us." Eric nodded and left the hut, conscious of the gazes of the three Riders upon him.

* * *

><p>With the hour deadline coming to a close, Eric looked over the final few items he was taking. He'd been to see Rhunön to ask if she'd laid extra enchantments on Rekfeigr or scabbard during the forging process that made it any different from other Riders' swords, but had been flatly answered "no".<p>

Eric smiled ruefully at the situation. He wasn't completely finished with his training, yet he was being sent to do what seemed to be impossible. Ástirí stood beside him as he finally finished packing Rhys' saddlebags, satisfied. A minute later, Gareth arrived, carrying only his sword and the armor he was wearing. Eric smiled at the man, but said nothing.

_Are you sure you can carry three people easily?_ Eric asked Rhys once more. The dragon humored him, but blew a cloud of smoke in his Rider's face which gave Eric a coughing fit as his eyes stung and watered.

_We won't be flying as for as long as you and I alone can, but yes, I can carry you three._ Taking a deep breath, Eric motioned for the other two to climb on first. Once Gareth and Ástirí were situated, Eric positioned himself behind Ástirí and helped her get her legs strapped in as Gareth used the saddle's arm straps to do the same.

"Get ready," Eric told them pressing his own knees tight against the saddle and wrapping his arms around Ástirí's waist. A moment later, Eric could see Rhys' muscles move just before the dragon launched himself off the ground. "Gareth, you'll have to guide Rhys to your monastery," Eric shouted at the man over the wind after they had cleared the trees. He didn't receive a response, but he didn't doubt Garth had heard him. The man was tense as the air flowed past them. Ástirí, on the other hand, seemed to relish the feeling of flying by dragonback.

"This is incredible," he heard the elf laugh.

"Yes, but I would still prefer my feet on the ground," Gareth complained back.

"Don't worry, it gets better once the stiffness from sitting in the saddle for so long starts to fade away," Eric told them. He felt Ástirí lean back into him and Eric blushed as he realized that he still had his arms around her waist.

They flew like that for hours, stopping only because Rhys informed them that he required rest. They landed in a small clearing, still in the middle of Du Weldenvarden, though Eric thought he could see the edge of the forest off in the distance.

Pulling out the mirror Eric had packed for the purposes of communicating with Eragon, he cast the spell and spoke a few words before putting the mirror back in the saddlebags.

* * *

><p>It was after nightfall when Rhys needed another chance to rest, to which Eric responded by deciding to make camp. As with their previous stop, Rhys landed in a clearing. The difference was that they were a short flight away from the Hadarac Desert, which according to Gareth meant their course would turn mostly west and take them toward the Gil'ead and the Spine.<p>

The trio sat against Rhys as they watched the fire in front of them crackle away. They hadn't spoken much, since flying seemed to have tired Gareth and Ástirí far more than it had Rhys. Eric was alert and had volunteered to take the first watch.

The hours of night passed slowly as Eric kept his senses open. He even kept his mind open, not wanting to let anything sneak up on them. Finally it came time for Eric to be relieved and he gently shook Gareth awake by his shoulder.

Without a word, the man nodded, letting Eric lean against Rhys as sleep overcame him.

* * *

><p>"So Gareth," Eric began as they ate a quick breakfast a little after the sun rose above the horizon. "I realize you said I'd find out when I arrived, but I have to ask: what did I give you to keep safe?"<p>

Gareth glanced at Eric and frowned. "That is what I have been thinking about since my watch last night," he answered. "There was a large slatelike stone and a oval-shaped emerald band." Gareth gave a small laugh and smiled. "Let us hope you left something else. Something I did not see."

As he stood and began preparing for the day's journey, Eric couldn't help but agree.

* * *

><p>When Rhys landed for the night on the second day, Ástirí excused herself to go for a walk. Eric just let her go, thinking she wished for time alone.<p>

After a few minutes however, Rhys pushed against Eric's back with his head. _Go to her. _Not wanting to argue, Eric did as bidden and came across Ástirí standing on a hilltop, looking sorrowfully out towards Du Weldenvarden. Eric could barely make out the trees in the darkness, but his vision failed to focus on any single one of them.

"Seven decades I've lived and never have I left the forest before," Ástirí said after a moment. "It makes me feel..." she trailed off.

"I think I understand. It felt different when I first entered Du Weldenvarden. I felt so small. Now that I'm back outside the forest, and seeing the plain stretch on or looking out over the Hadarac Desert." Eric gave a low laugh and smiled as Ástirí turned toward him. "The scenery doesn't like to change very much here in Alagaësia, does it?"

"No, I doesn't appear to." Eric cast his gaze west and studied the night-darkened plain.

"Just think, on the other side of this plain lies the Spine and somewhere in those mountains is our destination." Eric sighed before looking back at his companion. "Much has happened to me over this past year, Ástirí. I've learned so much and yet knowing what little I do about this enemy that's out there, I can't help feeling that I'm going to die."

The elf reached out her hand and rested it on Eric's cheek. "If you are anything like the man I knew before, you will not die," she told him firmly. The fact that they were both speaking in the ancient language and Ástirí's faith in him helped boost Eric's confidence.

"What do you suppose that emerald band Gareth spoke of is for?" He asked after a time.

"Whatever it is for, we shall find out." Eric covered her hand and held it to his face before sliding it off and grasping it in both hands.

"Then, Ástirí," he said softly. "If we live, I would be honored if you agreed to become my mate." The elf's eyes studied him carefully.

Finally, a smile crept onto Ástirí's features. "When this is over, I would like that." Eric smiled wider and pulled Ástirí back towards the camp.

"Come, we should get back to the others. There's still a shade loose that was willing to spend eighteen years looking for me. We'll be a little safer with Gareth and Rhys since I doubt a year has changed Govad's mind at all."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Okay so if you haven't noticed, I write the top Author's note when I start the chapter, and the bottom one when I'm finished. Over the course of writing this chapter I really had to think of what Eric would give to Gareth. The problem with this is I had to think like Eric, so I added a new category in my notes: "The Scavenger Hunt". It means exactly what it looks like. One clue points here, that clue points there... It makes me think of the MiB2 line:

Kay - "I like to keep my enemies confused."  
>Jay - "We all confused, Kay."<p>

No, I didn't actually get any ideas for this fic from that movie... it just popped into my head as I read over what I'd written.

So updates should come every 1-2 days now depending on how clear/foggy my mind is. Anyway, reviews are extremely welcome... as you should know by now.


	11. Chapter 8: Death and Riddles

**A/N:** And so starts chapter 8... well, since there's only one review to really respond to, I'll keep it here:

To whoever used the nickname "Eragon Is Epic": I thought of it, will likely think of it, and may even do so. Ástirí's and Eric's fates are still largely unknown to me. Meaning I don't know how their role in this story will end. Gareth's fate is the only one I've really thought about, but only because of another character whose name shall not yet be mentioned... MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle_ or any other literary works.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight – Death and Riddles<strong>

The monastery was well hidden by a thick forest as Rhys glided down to the valley hidden deep within the spine. Eric looked over the stone structure and smiled. He hoped that the items he'd left here would show him what to do or at least help him in his task.

After a quick glance at the noonday sun, Eric jumped from Rhys' back and helped the others off.

_I will wait for you and keep watch,_ Rhys assured him.

_Thank you._ Muttering a quick spell to help Eric detect traps and enchantments,, he led the way inside. What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks and filled Eric with a sense of awe.

He'd seen libraries before and heard them described, but the sheer number of books, scrolls, tablets, and other recorded works that he was looking at simply astounded him. They were piled on tables and organized on shelves more than three times Eric's height... and there still wasn't room for all of them. The few men who were visible didn't look up from the books they were pouring over.

As he took everything in, an odd sense of peace came over Eric. It wasn't quite like the peace of mind that he got when walking in Ellesméra, but the peaceful sensation was there nonetheless. Glancing at Ástirí, he saw that she was similarly effected as well. Neither of then even noticed Gareth walk past until he spoke.

"Follow me. I have set all my wards to let those who are with me pass by, so do not fall too far behind," he told them softly, as if trying not to disturb the others in the room. Both Eric and Ástirí nodded before Gareth began leading them through the halls of the monastery. Looking at it from the outside, Eric had thought it small, but the Grey Folk descendents had obviously done something with magic to make the inside so spacious.

"We have," Gareth answered as if he were inside Eric's mind. "If one can create a pocket of space the size of a pinprick, then it is possible to widen the space there currently is. It is a difficult concept for some, but when you devote your life to learning, such spells are simple matters."

"How do you power the spell?" Ástirí asked. "It must take a large amount of energy to keep it sustained for very long." Gareth nodded.

"We refill the gems tied to maintaining the spell with as much energy as we dare at the end of every day. We need not worry about attackers, even from the urgals, so we can devote our time to growing stronger and our thirst for knowledge. Even with our longevity, it can take a lifetime to read all of these books. So many of us focus our expertise. If we need knowledge from another topic we can spend the time learning or simply ask for help from one versed in such a subject."

Eric tried to imagine what life here at the monastery would be like and he couldn't completely manage it. Gareth had mentioned before that Eric had spent time here learning, but with so much knowledge available, Eric couldn't imagine what he would have tried to learn.

"Here we are," Gareth said suddenly. Eric snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the open doorway. Gareth's room was surprisingly sparse. Having seen the library earlier, he couldn't help but feel that the simple wardrobe, bed, and chest were slightly disappointing.

"Eric," coaxed Gareth, bringing him out of his thoughts once more. "I shall undo my protections around your items if I am able. If I am not, then I ask for you to stayed focused as you will need to." Eric nodded and the trio stepped into the room.

Gareth's eyes lit up momentarily and Eric thought he had succeeded in grabbing hold of the magic he was striving for. His hope was short-lived though as Gareth's brow wrinkled in irritation. "Always when I need it..." the man muttered. Looking back at Eric, he pointed in a far corner between the wardrobe and the wall. "It is there. Light is bending around the chest to conceal and it is trapped. If you were to try and open it now, you would be killed instantly. Not many people have thought of a ward to protect themselves from one of my race's traps."

Eric heart was beating heavily inside of his chest as he cast out his magically enhanced senses to divine how to undo the protections Gareth had placed. It was difficult and Eric felt seconds turn to minutes before he finally recognized the effects of purposes of the spells used.

"Garjzla, gánga fram." In an instant, the chest was sitting in plain view. Eric let out a deep breath. The easy part was over. Now came the troubling counterspell. "Kveykva..." Eric paused as he thought once more about his wording. "Kveykva, brakka onr huildr vel..." He trailed off again trying to think of what the spell was attached to. Gareth was saying nothing and Eric knew that he was waiting to see what Eric would attempt.

Once again, Eric took a deep breath and centered himself, calming his mind completely. "Kveykva, losna onr huildr vel brisingr un du kista. Brisingr, waíse gángaí." The wording was rough as he released the spell, but when Eric saw Gareth's smile he knew that he'd succeeded.

Stepping forward carefully, Eric kept his senses open for any more spells still protecting the small chest.

Thankfully, there were none.

Kneeling in front of the container, Eric's heart started pounding harder still. Shaking hands reached out and trembling fingers fumbled with the lock after a quick word unlocked it. Finally, Eric managed to pull open the chest and peer inside.

In the chest was a simple leather bag, which he lifted out and set on the ground. It weighed probably a little more than ten pounds. Reaching into the bag, Eric pulled out its contents: the oval-shaped, emerald band and the slate of rock.

The emerald band drew Eric's attention immediately. He had always assumed that Gareth had been speaking of the band's color, not what it was actually made of. The gem was polished smooth and the space in between the two longest sides was incredibly narrow. The inside surfaces were completely flat and it looked as if the band fit over something, though what it went over Eric had no idea.

Setting it to the side, he picked up the stone and looked over its blank surfaces. He'd practiced making fairths before and Eric couldn't help but think that this rock was perfect for such an image. What was odd was that he'd given a blank stone to Gareth to keep safe. A blank stone and a seemingly useless band of gemstone.

"Great..." Eric muttered with a frustrated sigh. "More riddles."

* * *

><p>Eric sat beside Rhys turning the fairth stone in his hands. He'd been studying it for over an hour already and no clues had come. Even Gareth and Ástirí were confused at the two objects.<p>

"This is pointless," Eric growled finally, setting the stone down. "I'm not getting anywhere with this."

_Perhaps you left an impression in the green-emerald-oval-band,_ Rhys offered. Eric's head whipped around and he stared at the dragon in awe.

_I forgot about that._

Rhys gave an amused snort. _I know._

Picking up the band, Eric reached out with his mind and was instantly met with a similar torrent of energy that he had experienced with Rekfeigr's emerald. This time he didn't recoil and waited for what seemed to be an eternity. Finally the thought came to him.

_The spear points to the namesake Rider's tomb. The dragon is there._

Eric blinked in shock. He found what he was looking for, but he had no idea what the impression meant. What was the "spear"? Who was the "namesake Rider"? He looked over at Rhys. _Well?_ He asked mentally.

_I cannot know everything, Eric._ By the sound of his words, Eric guessed that Rhys had taken a blow to his pride by saying them. _Perhaps Ástirí or Gareth knows something. If not, then bring it up in your report tonight._

Eric sighed as he set the band down and picked the stone back up. Turning it over in his hands, he wondered what to do with it. The obvious answer was to create an image on the stone and keep it for later. Looking down at it, he briefly considered what he could project onto its surface. The memory of the monastery's library surfaced and he filed it away. His sense of awe would likely throw off the image. Ástirí and Gareth came next, followed by Arya, Eragon, and Murtagh. They were his family as much as his adoptive parents, especially the three Riders.

That decided it and Eric focused the images of everyone he considered friends and family into his mind's gaze and uttered the spell. Colors danced across the surface of the stone before Eric saw the image taking form. Just as he could make out the individual faces of everyone he loved the image washed out and was replaced by one of Ástirí.

The elf was wearing a light green tunic, brown leggings, and gray boots. Her blue eyes seemed to be staring out of the image and straight at Eric. Her expression was both soft, yet fierce and she had her sword on her hip. A slight smile tugged at her lips and the slight ferocity of it made Eric smile too. As he studied the fairth he realized that he was viewing Ástirí as she really was. What he was seeing was not just the elf he thought he knew, he was also seeing the mate of his former life. Looking closely at the image, he saw many things he didn't know about her.

Then it hit him. He was viewing Ástirí's entire being. The fairth was a visual representation of her true name. The weight of that knowledge hit him and he held the fairth close.

Now he knew why the stone had been blank before. The fairth was too dangerous for just anyone to look at. Not even the other elves could see it. Standing up, Eric carefully handled the fairth as he packed it snugly into Rhys' saddlebags that were laying next to the emerald-colored dragon. He couldn't afford to show it to anybody. Doing so would be the worst kind of betrayal to Ástirí... or anyone for that matter.

Just as he finished hiding the fairth, Eric barely heard Gareth walk up behind him, stopping only to pick up the band Eric had left on the ground. "Have you learned anything?" Eric turned and accepted the band as Gareth held it out to him.

"I left an impression in the band. You wouldn't happen to know anything about a spear or a namesake Dragon Rider, would you?" Gareth appeared thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head.

"No, though many spears come to mind, you have never seen them. As for this Dragon Rider... I am positive Eragon would know more than I would. It likely refers to one of your ancestors, but it depends on whose name you meant in the impression." Eric nodded as his studied the band again with his mind. He'd left an almost obscene amount of energy within it as well. The purpose for it was lost on Eric and so, as with Rekfeigr, he refrained from taking any. "What of the stone?"

Eric turned his gaze intently on Gareth and their eyes met. "The information on that fairth is extreme enough that you had best not ask me again." The man's only response was completely calm as he studied Eric.

"I understand," he said with the hint of a smile. "Perhaps you'd better inform Ástirí of this finding."

"I intend to."

* * *

><p>Eric ate ate his dinner in silence as he pondered what had occurred thus far since they arrived at the monastery. Ástirí had taken the news of the fairth well and had smiled warmly when he whispered her true name. What had surprised him was when she put her lips to his ear and whispered a few short words of the ancient language to him causing his entire body to quake from their power.<p>

His true name wasn't disappointing, but he hadn't expected it either. It left him with mixed feelings. He thought that he hadn't earned it. That because Ástirí had practically given it to him, the wisdom that would have otherwise come didn't. He was happy to know himself, but he found some parts disturbing to now have knowledge of.

His thoughts went back to the band and Eric sighed as he realized that nothing about it made sense. He saw Ástirí give him a reassuring smile. Finally the meal was finished and Eric was ready to report into Eragon and the others.

Walking outside alone, Eric patted Rhys a couple of times before grabbing the mirror he'd packed to communicate with Eragon, Arya, and Murtagh. He cast the spell and waited as the mirror darkened then revealed the inside of the hut Eragon was staying at. Nobody was in view at first, then Eragon appeared.

Eric spoke the first line of the elven greeting, to which Eragon responded, following it up with, "what have you learned?"

"What Gareth told me was true. I left an emerald band and a fairth here. I had apparently disguised the image on the fairth. The band is what has me confused though. I left an impression in it like I did with Rekfeigr."

"What is it?" Eragon appeared concerned, which wasn't surprising. If Eric couldn't decipher the clues he left behind, they would gain nothing from this venture.

"It was 'the spear points to the namesake Rider's tomb. The dragon is there.'" Eric looked expectantly at Eragon as the leader of his order thought.

"Return to Elleméra," he said finally. "We'll continue your training as we try to solve this. Until then, I'll have every Rider prepare for battle. We'll do what we can, but the sooner we've solved this puzzle you created, the sooner we finish this problem."

"We'll hurry back then." Eric ended the spell and put the mirror back into his saddlebags. Turning around he found Ástirí and Gareth standing a few yards away, watching him. "We're returning to Ellesméra for now. We'll leave in the morning. I'll stay out here."

Gareth nodded and turned to go back inside. Just as Ástirí moved to follow him, a disturbingly familiar voice broke the newly formed silence. "Leaving? And so soon, Älfablödh?"

All three turned around at the words. Even Rhys turned his head in the direction the voice came from. The shade Govad materialized from the darkness of the trees. He had a group of soldiers following behind him. All of them wore expressions to give the impression that they'd rather be anywhere else. The six men were surrounding a seventh small form, hiding the person from view.

Eric glanced sideways at Ástirí and Gareth, cursing inwardly when he noticed their lack of swords. Drawing Rekfeigr, he stepped forward. "Get inside. I'll handle this."

"Oh I think not," Govad said with a smirk. "Bring her to me." The soldiers moved instantly and Eric noticed that the seventh person had her hands bound and a heavy canvas bag over her head. Reaching over, the shade pulled off the bag and Eric's heart stopped for a moment.

The person was Sara. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Eric with an equal amount of shock.

"Let her go," Eric growled at the shade. "Sara has nothing to do with this." The shade's smile never faded.

"That's wrong, isn't it, my dear?" Sara flinched as Govad placed a hand on her shoulder. "You escaped me more times than I care to count. And so, I shall target those you love until you beg to serve me so that I'll stop. I'll start with the girl who was meant to be your fiance first."

"Eric," Sara cried softly. "What's going on?" The shade said something as Eric tried to answer, but suddenly found his mouth gagged by an unseen force. He tried to move, but that too was met with failure. He didn't for sure, but Eric was certain that Gareth and Ástirí too were experiencing similar difficulties. They could only watch as Govad accepted a knife from one of the men and yanked back on Sara's hair to expose her throat.

"Swear to me, Älfablödh, or she dies here." Despite finding that he could speak again, Eric reached out with his mind and touched Sara's tenderly. He still couldn't move yet.

_I'm sorry about everything, Sara,_ Eric told her mentally. Her struggles became more desperate as Eric tried to think of a way to stop the shade. The only solution was magic, but the shade would never allow Eric to speak the Ancient Language, much less cast a spell that would succeed in bypassing any of the shade's wards. Trying to break free would be too exhausting as well.

_Then ward her,_ Rhys said.

Diving into his magic, Eric focused hard on his intent before quickly uttering the one word he knew would make it out of his mouth. "Skölir." He poured as much energy as he dared if he was going to have a chance at defeating the shade only to be bolstered by Rhys' own vast supply.

Govad merely appeared bored as he brought the knife against the ward and pressed against it. The energy drain caused Eric to gasp and he soon faced the choice of releasing the spell or dying. Despair flooded him as he faced the hopeless situation.

"Brakka," he muttered, hoping to be met with success in freeing himself. The pressure stopping Eric from moving lessened and he strained his entire body in an attempt to move. Touching Sara's mind again, he recoiled as he realized Govad was speaking to her thoughts as well.

_He loves that elf. He doesn't care about you anymore. He'd rather you die than submit._ His eyes saw Sara suddenly cease her struggles and his ward around her snapped as the shade spoke another spell. Eric could only watch helplessly as the knife went across Sara's neck. The blood sprayed at first, going as far as half the distance towards Eric, and then just ran down her front as her heart pumped it from her body. Horror filled him as he watched. Then something happened that he nor anybody else expected.

Rhys' body vibrated with energy suddenly and then lashed out. Eric stumbled as he found himself able to move again and Govad's expression turned angry as his binding spells broke. But his anger was nothing compared to Eric's as he rushed forward and swung Rekfeigr at the shade.

Metal struck metal and Eric was soon pushed onto the defensive. He parried a cut that would have gone through his bicep and then blocked the next attack. Though he was angry, Eric forced himself to stay calm by sheer willpower.

After a few more blows, Eric's defense failed to block right away and he received a slight cut to his hip for it. Flinching from the pain, Eric jumped back and soon noticed two blurs right beside him. Ástirí and Gareth both had their swords and while Ástirí took care of the six normal men, Gareth joined Eric in his struggle against Govad, circling around the shade to attack from behind.

Attacking with his mind, Eric timed an attack with Gareth. Govad seemed to glide out of the way of the two blades and returned the mental attack with one of his own. Eric flinched again as the spear stabbed his mind, but his defenses held firm. The attack stopped almost instantly as Gareth attacked once more, managing a minor hit to the side of the shade's neck. To Eric's eyes, however, it appeared as if Gareth's attempt had been redirected.

As Govad turned his attention more towards Gareth, Eric began to mutter a spell to bend the light around him and to redirect any sound he made. It wasn't easy, and Eric had to restart twice as his tongue tripped. Despite speaking mostly the Ancient Language for the better part of a year, he still had trouble with some of the sounds.

Finally he succeeded and when Govad turned back to face him, Eric was nowhere to be seen or heard. He still was forced to block the shade's sword as it slashed horizontally at him, but despite his position being revealed, Eric lunged forward, holding Rekfeigr straight in front of him. Not being able to see himself, however, made Eric miss and instead of piercing the shade's heart, it went straight through his neck.

As had happened when Murtagh had "killed" the shade, Govad let out an unearthly howl and vanished in a cloud of mist, leaving behind his belongings. Releasing his spell, Eric gave a sigh of relief and looked over at Ástirí as she finished off the last of the men.

Then he forced himself to look down at where Sara's body had fallen.

Only to find her missing.

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><p><strong>AN:** So this is my longest chapter, I believe. Sorry, it took so long... laziness and video games from the 90s that still work on Windows 7 without needing DOSBox do not make it easy to focus. But, hey, I'm satisfied. I struggled a bit with the traps guarding the chest and the fight scene and while I think it could be better, I don't know any other way to manage it. I knew that Sara was going to die and her body would be missing as well. I also knew that Govad would "die"... but finding a way to combine them into a way of making sense was difficult. Oh well...

Review please, I really want to know how I did on this chapter.


	12. Author's Note 3: Responses to Reviews

Thank you for your reviews. I enjoy reading them as much as I do reading any story... and it makes me feel slightly more accomplished as a writer, since I tend to really be my own worst critic. Yes, I really liked Cookie's questions and everyone else's are excellent as well. So I'll do a question and answers for you (though if I think it reveals too much of the plot, I'll say so).

**Q#1: **So Eragon would be 500 yrs old in this that means Arya would be 600 wow?

**A:** Yes.

**Q#1:** Okay, this is happening before the story starts right?

**A: **Yes. The prologue is Eric's escape. It did happen before Chapter 1. My original plan was to never mention Eric by name during that entire prologue, but I failed at it. When it occurred to me that I had to throw out my idea, I tried to make it as mysterious as possible afterward.

**Q#2:** So I am thinking that he has been reborn more than once but how many times?

**A:** Believe it or not, he hasn't. I got the idea for this from something Eragon asked Oromis (can't remember when, but I remember the conversation). He asked if it were possible to extend a person's life by making them young again. Oromis answered that one could remove signs of aging, but the mind would still die. The only way to be truly immortal in this fashion is to revert the mind also. This destroys the person's very identity that came from anytime after the person was that age. For example, if an old magician wanted to regain the body he had when he was twenty and extend his life at the same time, he would have to revert his mind back to when he was twenty, destroying all evidence of his memories and knowledge he had gained after that point in his life. It's very risky. Eric chose this path as a last resort. He was being hunted and couldn't get to safety (wards preventing arcane entry can be a real pain). So he went with something to try and convince his hunters that he was dead. If they found him, he also didn't want any of his knowledge to be stolen and used. He was, in short, a strength and a liability to his family, the elves, and the Riders.

**Q#3:** How close is he to Arya and Eragon?

**A:** Well he grew up in Ellesmera and spent some time at the home of the Riders, Ynys Skulblaka. One would assume he is pretty close to them, especially since his family was killed. Also, children among the elves is still rare (less so with the restoration of the dragons), so he received a lot of attention from Arya and as a result, Eragon. He's pretty close too all of his family actually.

**Q#4**: Any chance of some romance?

**A:** While I'm not very good at romance (I've tried it a lot), I'm attempting it. I can't guarantee very much though. I always seem to veer towards the whole "soul mates" notion.

**Q#5:** So he is 5 generations removed from her? Is it on his mother's side?

**A:** By my estimate, yes. 5 generations seemed enough for part-elves. Paolini has said that the offspring of an elf and a human wouldn't be immortal, but they'd live for a long time. Obviously this longevity lessens as the elf blood thins with each generation, so I debated adding more generations in but decided against it. And yes, it's his mother's side. I had one of Eric's old friends explain his heritage in more depth.

**Q#6:** Is Nasuada dead?

**A:** She was mortal. It's been 500 years since Galbatorix was killed. Yes, she's dead. Her line is still ruling, but they won't hold any major parts in this fic, I think.

**Q#7:** How does a non-Rider have a Rider's sword?

**A:** Simple answer – Eric needed it.

The slight more in-depth reason – He wouldn't have received it at all if he weren't related to Riders.

The really in-depth reason – Eric was carrying a normal elven sword when his family was killed. No matter how hard he tried, the enemy's wards blocked his attacks. So he went to Rhunön and convinced her to forge him a sword (she was released from her vow some time ago). Because of what happened and the various reasons Eric gave her, Rhunön gave in and forged the blade and the sheathe (there's more to that story which you'll learn in later chapters).

**Q#8:** What happened to Eric's family?

**A: **Killed in battle while on Vroengard. That subject will come up some more. There's still things Eric must do before he is ready to face what's there. I have battles planned, but I'm not sure how to put them in quite yet. Everything will fall into place sooner or later though.

**Q#9:** Has something changed about Eric (has his true name changed) that allowed Rhys to hatch for him? I guess I am really asking whether Rhys was in his egg when Eric was still bad-ass Eric and did not hatch for him, or whether Rhys is a newer baby dragon that was created after Eric cast his spell to make himself a baby.

**A:** Essentially that spell made Eric a completely different person living in the same body. Rhys could have been put before Eric plenty of times, but Eric was never chosen. As I think I've said before, no one can really know for certain how a dragon chooses their Rider. All that matters is that they do. And yes... I like to think that the old Eric was pretty epic. But then he had the experience that the "new" Eric doesn't.

**Q#10: ** If I understood Gareth's explanation correctly, the Grey Folk have been declining, but not all magic?

**A:** Magic is working perfectly. The Grey Folk pretty much destroyed their race as practically god-like magicians when they bound the Ancient Language to magic itself. As stated it had side-effects. The Grey Folk cannot grasp the flow of magic often and when they do it is usually in times when they least expect it. Sometimes, it will answer their call and then the flow will cease halfway through the spell. Diminished in a sense, but still powerful enough when it comes.

**Q#11:** I like Gareth, and hope that you develop his past more - like how did he get to be so powerful?

**A: **Ouch... I've never really mentioned an age for him, but I guess it should suffice to say that Gareth is OLD. He may appear young (have I even put a decent description of him in there yet?), but his mind is old. I'll cover this more in later chapters, but his power is what comes from his experiences. He has gone on many journeys and adventures to dangerous places. To survive most of those, he needed power. Add that to the library in the monastery and with magic he is a genius. With a sword, he's learned to keep movement to a minimum – along with other tricks – so that he could defeat an elf in solo combat. Shades on the other hand...

**Q#12:** Does the emerald band go over his sword? Kind of hard to tell from your description, but it sounds like it might fit over the blade.

**A: **You'll find out this next chapter.

**Q#13:** His back ground about his father I'm not sure I followed that. So he is related on both sides?

**A:** Yes, Eric is related to Dragon Riders on both sides of his family. Eragon and Arya on his Mother's side. Eragon (the first Rider) and a few others on his father's side. Paolini has stated in an interview that hybrid children of elves and humans often can't have children of their own, but as Brom put it "fate seems to have a morbid interest in our family". All the events that have happened to Eric and his family are unlikely, true, but they are within the realm of reason.

**Q#14:** Murtagh got hurt pretty badly if they can't fix it with magic all the way. Who attacked him and kept him prisoner?

**A:** This will be revealed in later chapters. Though I will mention that some of his wounds resisted magical healing and needed to heal the conventional way. If you're thinking it's Govad... well, let's just say I have a few ancient horrors to dig up.

**Q#15:** So they are off to find things to help Eric figure out how to defeat these. They found the box I wonder if it will lead them to more things?

**A: **The honest truth: not completely. A couple things are just mundane objects that lead to the next clue. It's meant to deter any enemies that attempt to find these items before Eric does. The fairth and the band have a lot more to them, however, than meets the eye. The band will be explained in the Chapter 9. The fairth... we'll see where my idea for it fits in.

**Comment: **My only quibble is that Shade's are supposedly killed only by a blow through their heart...however, hard to imagine a Shade living after having their head severed from their torso while being engulfed in magical fire.

**Response: **Concerning the shade thing... from what I understand, when a shade is "killed" but the heart isn't pierced then they vanish (their body seems to vaporize) and they reappear fully reformed (head attached and all) elsewhere. Though from the little bit that I know, they will be naked and unarmed. Not exactly the most pleasant image, but that's the conclusion I've come to based on what Paolini has written.

**Comment:** I hope that it is just Arya/Eragon's line that is dying, not the entire line of Riders.

**Response: **Dying is a harsh way to put it really. They were killed because they stumbled onto something that caused their deaths. Eric survived... barely. His escape is what caused him to be hunted in the prologue and throughout the fic.

**Comment:** You nailed Rhunon perfectly. Salty as the sea.

**Response:** Thank you. I like to think that I did right by Rhunön. It's harder for the other characters who we watched develop throughout the books. Rhunön never changed.

**Comment:** I see that Rhys (welsh for dragon, I presume is why you picked it) is just as vain as Saphira.

**Response:** Actually Rhys is a Welsh name meaning "enthusiasm". I liked it. Somehow every time I try to name something it takes a half hour for me to find something good (longer if I want to make it up completely). I'm just never satisfied by the final product... though there are some that I think fit perfectly. As for how vain Rhys is... well, he's young and a dragon. Those two often don't exist well together without some form of narcissism.

**Comment: ** I cannot think of why Eric would need a scabbard made out of brightsteel and silver. The only thing I can think of is that it would somehow allow him to channel energy in some way to enhance his or his sword's power (since he wasn't a full Rider when he received the sword).

**Response:** Close... you'll find out when I post the next chapter.

**Comment: **The riders seem to still be strong even if Eragon's family has been essentially wiped out. You have not mentioned any other riders in the story yet, but you have not given any indication that their number was in decline. Murtagh, Eragon, and Arya are still all strong, while the elven race seems to be stable.

**Response: **This is better explained in the next chapter. The races are flourishing (minus the descendents of the Grey Folk, that is). Really that's all there is to say. My main regret is the lack of depth to the world itself. The plot is good, in my opinion, but the focus on outside detail is narrow.

**Comment:** I would like to see more of Saphira in your stories, as she seems to have been mostly left out to this point. She is such an integral part of Eragon that I am surprised you have left her out for the most part up to this point.

**Response:** This fic centers mainly on Eric and while I wish to include Eragon and the old characters more, they won't hold as strong of roles as they did in the Cycle. Saphira hasn't made much of an appearance because she's likely with Fírnen. But you'll see more of her in time.

**Comment:** I like that Eric is most likely going to pick up his relationship with his mate, but I think you could have described his transition from Sara to Ástirí more.

**Response: **When I realized that I had failed in regards to Eric's moving on from one to the other, I noted that I really didn't include Sara in any of his thoughts. This made me think that he just forgot about Sara due to his frustration at living around people who knew him before the spell. It makes sense in a way. So much to take in and not really being left alone can cause forgetfulness in certain areas.

**Comment:** I liked your idea of a visual representation of Astiri's true name as a fairth. CP never thought of that (or at least never used it).

**Response: **Thank you. It took a little bit of thought to fully understand what it was I wanted. But there's more to this mystery... so stay tuned.

**Comment:** I'm thinking that you might want to change your rating to T if your not going to have vivid torture or really nasty slaughtering battles or lemons.

**Response:** Thank you for the opinion. I've been debating it for a couple of chapters now. I rated it to be safe, but I do agree that it is more "T" than "M"... so far. Torture can be fun if one knows how to properly apply it. I just so happen to know how. The trick is finding a proper place to use it. Lemons are an absolute "no" for me (you can't expect a person who's never even dated a girl before to be capable of writing sex). Battles... well, battles are like torture, but on a larger scale. With my sometimes narrow focus I fail to write the bigger picture. One on one deals are easier for me than writing a battle where thousands of people are dying gruesome and gory deaths.

**Comment:** Arya's description of him (Eric) is very kind.

**Response:** I tried for kind, yet critical. Honestly, the first thing that popped into my head was "make his personality contradict for everything, yet keep it believable". I think I did well.

**Comment:** I am really surprised he is taking Ástirí with him but that makes sense since she probably knew him really well before.

**Response:** She knew how he thought, but funnily enough, it's Eragon who solves the first mystery after their trip. The clues I've designed are something that Eric doesn't truly know who can help. He thought Gareth and Ástirí could help him the most, but he also knows that it's possible they can't. What I guess I should say is that nobody could for sure help him. When he returned from Vroengard in his pre-spell life, he was changed (to the extent that his true name was different as well).

And finally...

**Comment:** Good chapter, but I don't entirely agree with the fact that Ástirí gave Eric his true name. In _Brisingr_ Oromis says that while knowing your true name is beneficial, you would miss the wisdom from finding your true name yourself if someone else would give it to you. I am sire Ástirí knows this too. And also there wasn't really any reason for Eric to know his true name at this point in the story. You should have saved it for later.

**Response:** Ah yes... the disappointment regarding Eric being given his true name... okay, I won't say much. T'would ruin the (possibly predictable) surprise. I will say though that he'll need the knowledge of his name later on. Also, Eric _DID_ think though that he missed out on the wisdom he would have otherwise gained if he discovered his name himself. Ástirí though had just heard her true name from the person she'd been mated to previously. Having spent enough time with Eric and getting to know him, she would obviously be able to guess at what his name was. That doesn't mean she possessed good judgment at that moment (she is also quite young for an elf, if you recall)... or did she say it for another reason? Could she have said it to have him realize that she had power over him as well? … guess you'll have to read and find out.

I hope that answers the bulk of your questions and concerns so far. Hope you enjoy the next chapter! ^_^

Oh and before I forget: anything you see that reminds you of another fanfic is entirely coincidental. For some reason w00ter, alfakyn-elf, and I seem to think along somewhat similar lines in regard to the conflicts. Shades, ancient evils, et cetera. They make excellent _Inheritance _fics if you can think of a new way to use them.

If you haven't read _Shadows_ by w00ter or _Ganga Fram_ by alfakyn-elf, I highly recommend them.

Need I mention though that adding all the special characters is a pain that my attention to detail won't let me forgo. Without MS Word, I can't do keyboard shortcuts when typing, so some words and names are more than irritating when they come up on a regular basis.


	13. Chapter 9: The Spear of Vengeance

**A/N:** So I kind of left you guys with a cliffhanger. Hoped you liked the last actual chapter... but then you likely wouldn't be reading still if you didn't like it, would you? So let's see... I managed to put Sara's death and Govad's return into the same event. The problem with that was what I wanted to happen for each conflicted when I thought about how I was going to write it. So the result was what you just read.

And if you're confused, don't worry: all will be revealed in time.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the _Inheritance Cycle_ or any other literary works.

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine – The Spear of Vengeance<strong>

Eric felt cold inside as he stared at Rekfeigr. He'd failed. It had been a week since he'd had a chance to kill Govad and he had failed. All because he hadn't seen where his sword was going to hit.

He'd failed Sara. He had failed to protect her, though he knew that he only broke free of the shade's spell because Rhys had used the unpredictable magic of dragons. And once Sara was dead, Eric had failed to avenge her and put an end to the shade.

Since then he'd hardly spoken. It hadn't taken long since he'd returned to Ellesméra to realize that he still possessed lingering feelings for the girl he once thought he was going to marry. It had hardly been in his true name. And now that she was dead – killed before his very eyes no less – Eric was viewing the world differently.

He'd always known that life was fragile. He'd been told by a man who'd lost his child that no one could fully understand that concept though until they experienced a personal loss. And now that Eric had, he felt as if a piece of him had been ripped away.

_Avenger of the Dead..._ Eric thought sarcastically. _I can't even protect those closest to me._ _If it weren't for Rhys..._

At that moment a knock came at the door before it opened and Arya and Eragon stepped inside. Eric hadn't seen them since he'd arrived back in Ellesméra and went in to speak with them and give one final report before secluding himself. Even Rhys had stayed away and it had made the pain slightly worse. Though Eric hadn't wanted any company, the absence of Rhys was still painful, no matter Eric's state of mind.

The two Dragon Riders walked into the tree house, pulled out a couple of chairs and took a seat. They said nothing, but Eric could feel their eyes on him.

"What?" He managed to ask, his voice cracking at not having been used in four days.

"Gareth told us about the shade's wards," Eragon said. "When you stabbed him, did you notice anything?" Eric shook his head.

"No, nothing." Eragon and Arya looked at each other communicating silently. Finally Eragon nodded.

"Zar'roc couldn't even pierce the wards," Eragon told him. "Gareth, we assume, put different enchantments into the making of his sword, but it was still deflected. Rekfeigr, however, should have been met with the same result as Zar'roc. Why then did you succeed?"

"Zar'roc managed to get through the wards the first time," Eric said, not bothering to look up from the sheathed blade in his lap.

"We've thought of that and believe that the Govad underestimated the exact enchantments placed on a Rider's sword," Arya replied. "It is also possible that Gareth's attack took away Govad's wards which allowed you to attack. Possible, but Gareth claims it isn't likely."

"Rhunön has told us that she forged Rekfeigr with the same songs sung into it as she would for any Rider." Eric kept his gaze on Rekfeigr. _Whatever I did in the past didn't help me save Sara._

At Eric's lack of response, Eragon stepped forward and placed his hand on Eric's shoulder. "I know how you feel. I've been alive for centuries and had to watch countless people I knew and cared for die. So I'll tell you something my father told me: Fate seems to have a morbid interest in our family. Though he said it for slightly different reasons, the same is true here."

"Were any of them killed while you watched, helpless to do anything?" Eric asked, intending to silence him and leave Eric alone with his thoughts.

"As mortals... yes, I could do naught but watch as they aged and died." Eric let out a long sigh and forced himself to look up at the older Rider. Eragon had a small smile that told Eric just how much his ancestor understood his pain.

That look of understanding changed to one of realization as his eyes went to Rekfeigr. "You're sure the impression said 'the spear'?"

"Aye, what about it?"

"May I see the band?" With another sigh, Eric pulled out the pouch he'd tied around his neck and dropped the emerald band into Eragon's hand.

"You once called Rekfeigr the spear of vengeance," Eragon told him, taking Eric's sword into his hand as well. Eric just watched as he drew the blade and looked between it and the scabbard. "Didn't the sheathe feel heavy, even with the materials used in it?" Eric shrugged. Eragon looked back at Arya and smiled, who still appeared confused, though as she watched, she seemed to understand her mate's thoughts.

Eragon pulled at the brightsteel mouth of the scabbard and Eric's eyes widened as it half of it slid off effortlessly. When he set the band and locked it in place with the brightsteel, Eric studied the finished product. The band fit perfectly. And he reached out to take it, but Eragon didn't respond. Instead he started muttering in the Ancient Language, which Eric recognized as a spell to detect the enchantments.

Everyone was silent for a while before Eragon gave a sharp laugh. With a smile he held out the scabbard and said, "Rekfeigr."

The sheathe shimmered slightly in response, but otherwise stayed the same. With a frown, Eragon looked at it again before handing it to Eric. "You try."

Shrugging, Eric took back the scabbard and muttered the sword's name. The result was breathtaking. Eric, Eragon. And Arya watched as the scabbard grew to a little more than six feet in length and then compressed in on itself, forming a thin, but sturdy haft of a spear. The last foot though flattened. Its edges appeared to sharpen and Eric finally managed to breath again as he realized what had happened. The spear didn't weigh any different.

Then he saw the words. There was a glyph on the head of the spear. It wasn't the same one that had adorned it when the spear had been a simple sheathe. "Hefnddaert," Eric read aloud. Despite his melancholy, the name amused him. For something that not only he, but Rhunön as well, had thought as useless and unneeded, the spear was a pleasant surprise. He found the name ironic as well. It was fitting too.

Apparently, Eragon and Arya agreed as they each gave a small smile at the name "Vengeance Spear". Eric lifted the perfectly balanced weapon with his index finger. Looking at it, he realized that he was going to kill Govad, even if it cost Eric his life. He'd make the shade pay for killing Sara.

His thoughts and feelings went from sorrow and loss to anger and revenge. "Rekfeigr," he muttered. As quickly as it had formed, the spear shrank back into the scabbard it had originally been. "Thank you for realizing the meaning behind the band, ebrithil."

"You're welcome," Eragon told him. "With that problem solved we can focus more on the last two parts: the 'namesake Rider' and the 'dragon'." Eric nodded and sheathed his blade again, glancing once at the emerald band. "But until we find the answers, your training will continue."

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><p>Eric dodged Gareth's thrust and spun Rekfeigr in a circle in front of him to block the followup attack as the man turned his sword and executed a horizontal slash, leaning back slightly to avoid the tip of Gareth's weapon. With his sparring opponent's weapon too far away to stop him, Eric could focus on attacking.<p>

Twisting his torso to put more momentum behind his body, Eric threw his elbow, smiling as Gareth easily evaded the blow. Eric wasn't finished, however, and as he lowered his arm and turned his attack into a pivot, his left leg landed a powerful blow on the back of Gareth's knee.

Rekfeigr's position in his left hand blocked the man's counterattack as he fell backwards, though Eric was forced to tense his arm to keep from being hit with his own blade. Unceremoniously, Eric pinned Gareth's sword arm to the ground with his own and placed a knee on the man's chest to keep his there.

"I think this still counts as dead," Eric told him with a slight smile as he held Rekfeigr's sheathe over Gareth's heart. He hadn't told the man about the spear, but Gareth nodded nonetheless.

"Yes, it would," he agreed. "Though an actual weapon would be more threatening, this is still your win." Eric moved away and Gareth rolled back, standing up as he did so. Wrapping the sheathe once more in the cloth Eric now used to hold it to his belt, he unblocked Rekfeigr's edges and slid it into the scabbard.

Bowing to his sword instructor, Eric took a running start before jumping up onto Rhys' foreleg and climbing into his dragon's saddle.

_You've grown stronger, Eric,_ Rhys noted as they became airborne. _It is good that you have healed._

_Healed?_ Eric asked. _Rhys, you know that I will never fully heal from Sara's death. No, I haven't healed. I've just redirected the pain I feel. It's what is making me move forward like this._

_Still,_ the dragon asserted, _this is progress._

* * *

><p>"I've been thinking a lot about the namesake Rider we're looking for," Eragon mentioned offhandedly as Eric took a breather from his magic lesson. He wasn't very exhausted, but unlike swordplay, magic taxed him mentally as well as physically.<p>

"And?"

"Arya, Murtagh, and I have all agreed that there has never a been a Rider named Eric before. It could mean the original Eragon, though... or it could not even be talking about the Rider's name at all." Eragon looked out over the rocky bluffs that were the Crags of Tel'naeír. "It could refer to the dragon's name."

"Saphira?" Eric asked, realizing the older Rider's train of thought. Eragon nodded.

"There's one way to find out," he told Eric with a sad smile. "When you go, I shall go with you and the other two. I haven't seen my father in a long time." Eric nodded.

"Ebrithil?" Eric asked after a moment.

"Yes?"

"I've been wondering about this for a while now. Why haven't I seen any other Riders besides you, Arya and Murtagh?"

"Five centuries is not too long of a time when you are immortal, Eric. Yes, it may seem significant, but when your life stretches throughout possibly thousands of years, you don't place as much emphasis on time as mortals do. For Riders, this means that the eggs we present for testing the youth often refuse to hatch for decades or longer. Our numbers are still few. As of now there are a little over fifty Shur'tugalar, most of them on Ynys Skulblaka." He smiled at Eric. "Before these latest events, there was hardly much need for more than probably ten of us to be in Alagaësia at any one time. Humans, dwarves, and Urgals usually have three Riders in their presence. Arya stays in Du Weldenvarden to advise her successor."

"What about you and Murtagh then?" Eric asked with interest.

"When the peace seems to be threatened too much, I return. Before I do, I usually ask Murtagh to look into things. He does the job well, though I assume that's because he's still trying to bury his past as a name-slave to Galbatorix." His smile became saddened slightly as he added, "some people have long memories."

Eric nodded. He knew of Murtagh's deeds during the Rider War. Murtagh had not been been perceived in a good light in the stories Eric knew. None of them except for the tale concerning the death of Galbatorix. Even Eric had condemned his actions during the war until he learned of Murtagh's relation to him.

"Will you call the other Riders to help Alagaësia?" Eragon seemed to dwell on the question for a moment before answering.

"Perhaps. Until I know for certain what we're up against, I'd prefer not to. What we know indicates that I'd be calling them here to die in vain. Murtagh and Thorn were lucky to have found a way to escape alive. Nurzhan and Ingvarg weren't. As the head of our order, I can't afford mistakes that could cost us everything we worked to build." Eric nodded again, knowing that Eragon's logic was sound. If the Riders couldn't harm the enemy, how could they hope to fight? "But enough of this for now. I I believe it's time you learned complete fundamentals of magic, secrets which are reserved for later on in a Rider's training. However, I believe that with your encounter with Govad, you can't afford to not know this. Now how does somebody use magic?"

"By immersing ourselves in the flow of magic, we can direct our own energy with the aid of the Ancient Language," Eric answered. Eragon gave a pleased smile.

"Almost," he replied. "Is it really necessary to use the Ancient Language?" Eric recognized where the conversation was going.

"Between what you, Gareth, Arya, and Murtagh have told me, I'm assuming not. That it's our thoughts that control the energy and speaking or even just thinking in the Ancient Language is just to focus it so that stray thoughts hardly affect spells, if at all."

"Close again. Thinking in the ancient language is just as dangerous as not," Eragon explained. "We're all certain that your spell to become an infant was nonverbal. To accomplish as much as you did, as once would have been difficult under normal circumstances. To manage it when trying to convince others that you're dead would have been impossible verbally."

Eric just stood there. Anger began to grow within him. He should have realized that he didn't need to speak to cast spells when Govad had gagged him magically. If it were obvious to him now, why hadn't he thought of it before?

"I'm not going to forget that," Eric said, mostly to himself.

"If your mind is still as focused as it was before, then no, you won't."

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><p>Eric waited as Eragon jumped onto his enormous sapphire dragon, Saphira. She easily dwarfed Rhys in size. Her body was slender and Eric knew she was built more for speed and agility. Rhys studied the other dragon before two loud roars sounded above them.<p>

Turning his head, Eric saw the large shapes of Thorn and Fírnen flying closer. As they circled to land nearby, Eric saw their respective Riders sitting in the saddles. Arya jumped down gracefully, while Murtagh got off with care, making Eric realize that he had still not fully healed.

They conversed with Eragon for a moment in voices low enough that Eric failed to hear them before the lead Rider nodded. The other two returned to their dragons and Eric felt a brush against his mind. It was Eragon.

_Arya and Murtagh are joining us. Go pick up Gareth and Ástirí and return here. Gareth will ride with me on Saphira._ Eragon had barely finished speaking when Rhys jumped and started flying towards Ellesméra.

The flight was short and Eric found the two waiting for him. As he climbed down, he smiled at his companions. "There's a slight change in plans. Eragon, Arya, and Murtagh are flying with us. Eragon wants you with him, Gareth. Ástirí, you're staying with me."

Eric and Rhys looked around at everyone. Their feelings of anxiety were mutual and the pair were ready to be off. Finally, Saphira roared as a jet of flame issued from her mouth.

"Stick together," Eragon's voice sounded as the sound of flames and Saphira's voice died. "If we get attacked, I don't want us split up unless there's nothing we can do. Glaedr-elda, Umaroth-elda, and Valdr-elda are joining us in case we run across something we don't recognize."

Eric looked around for signs of the three dragons Eragon was talking about, but gave up after a moment, resigning himself to confusion.

"Alright, let's go," Eragon ordered. Saphira roared again and took off first. With three beats of her gigantic wings, she was easily soaring over the treetops of Du Weldenvarden. Thorn went next. Rhys followed closely and Ástirí wrapped her arms around Eric's waist as the emerald dragon jumped from the edge of the Crags. Fírnen came last, though he and Arya were quick to join Eragon and Saphira in the front while Rhys flew beside Thorn.

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><p><strong>AN:** Well I hoped you liked this chapter. Brom's tomb is next. I decided to add more of Arya, Eragon, Murtagh and their respective dragons... so let's hope I don't botch this. The fullness of the conflict will begin to be realized over the next 2-4 chapters. And trust me... it extends way past Govad.

I've been thinking... and perhaps I'll give the two clues I listed as mundane an enchantment that only works when their together. Anywho, hope you liked this chapter. Review please. I love to hear what my readers think.


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